


Audentes Fortuna Iuvat

by ChiliTheKid



Series: The More Things Change... [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Noctis Lucis Caelum, F/M, Healer Noctis Lucis Caelum, Kid Fic, M/M, Merperson Noctis Lucis Caelum, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Shapeshifting, half these ships will turn up eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2020-10-18 03:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiliTheKid/pseuds/ChiliTheKid
Summary: Content with his afterlife, Noctis wasn't sure that he wanted to try it again in an new dimension, even if he didn't have to deal with Ardyn. (Hopefully). But the Astrals have granted him a boon, and maybe this time, he could give his friends and family someone they could be proud of.





	1. Of Second Chances and Shenanigans Had

**Author's Note:**

> This probably has plot holes galore, but this stupid plot bunny has followed me to work, invaded my dreams and it's starting to turn into the Rabbit of Caerbannog. And I want to nip that sort of thing in the bud. So here, have a short prologue and hopefully longer chapters. Once I figure out where this story is going.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a boon is granted and Noctis knocks an item off his bucket list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was once known as Fortune Favors the Bold (While the Wise Make Their Own Luck) but I changed it because that title was _too_ long.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**  
Nada
> 
> This has been beta'd by the wonderful INTERSTELLA, whom y'all should go check out. Interstella also helped flesh out some parts and fixed the Astral Speak, because she is an amazing person and deserves all the love and respect there is.
> 
> And to those of y'all who've read this before, yes this is a combination of the original Prologue and First Chapter.
> 
> **EDIT 1/19/20-** Aulea now speaks with an Irish accent and there have been changes to some ages to make my charted timeline work. One of these days I will be happy with what I posted the first time around. Today is obviously not that day and tomorrow doesn't look too good either. But hopefully I won't have to revisit this chapter.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020-** OK SO I LIED BUT I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST EDIT! I _SWEAR!_ Anyway, re-beta'd by the amazing notesoftruth, who is the great and powerful Grammar/Punctuation Wizard.
> 
> Any mistakes you see are mine, and if you can drop a comment about them, that would be amazing.

_ Chosen King…’ _ Noct was pulled away from a conversation with his family by a chilled whisper on the wind.

“Shiva, Ramuh.” He greeted dryly as he waved his parents goodbye and gave the two Astrals before him his full attention. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” The Glacian studied him with narrowed eyes for a full minute before smirking, shifting to a more familiar face while the Fulgarian leaned heavily on his staff, weathered face gentle.

_ ‘O, Chosen King. A mistake once made has been fixed anew. Sacrificed at worlds’ end, you have fixed that which should never have been broken. A dawn breaks on a new world by your actions.’ _

Gentiana turned to look over at Luna, who was laughing with her brother and mothers, before returning to Noct and bowing her head to place a kiss upon a chipped horn that appeared in her palm. _ ‘The Infernian now rests with peace, and for that my gratitude knows no end. It gladdens my heart to know that he is no longer in pain.’ _

_ ‘Shiva, enough talk of has-beens.’ _ Ramuh rumbled, _ ‘The time has now come to give the chance of will-bes.’ _ The Astral turned Messenger sighed.

_ ‘Your words are wise, dear brother mine.’ _ The horn vanished and a rose made of purple crystal appeared in its place. _ ‘Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Crystal's Chosen.’ _ The human snapped his attention to the gods from where it had wandered over to his friends and family. Shiva held the flower out to Noct, who took it gently and cradled it in between trembling fingers. _ ‘You have done us a great service and so we gift upon you a boon. The dead cannot rise, and time cannot be rewritten. But a spark may pass through new Stars. _

_ ‘A new world, a new timeline. Similar yet distant to our own. This world knows not Somnus the Betrayer, and to his brother the line of Lucis is owed. Ardyn, the Healer King, cleansed and cleared. A Star where upon Niflheim still rules and seeks more lands and the Scourge of the Stars seeps ever slowly into the soil. Though the light to banish may need not a life for the darkness to end. What say you, King of Kings?’ _

Noct looked down at the rose in his hand then turned in time to see Prompto be ambushed by Gladio and Ignis with a shower of picked greenery, while everyone else around them watched on in amusement. It took him a moment to understand Shiva’s confusing way of speaking, but when he believed he had a firm handle on it, he returned his gaze to the gods before him, “What would happen in that timeline if I don’t take this boon?”

_ ‘Niflheim takes control of the Crystal and brings about a calamity far worse than anything you have yet seen.’ _ Shiva murmured and Noct's eyes widened in shock.

“Even worse than the Ten Years of Darkness?” At the Glacial’s slow nod, he closed his eyes, focusing on the laughter of his loved ones and came to a decision. “Yes.” He gripped the rose and ignored the way its icy thorns cut into his palms. “Yes, I’ll do it.” Ramuh raised his free hand and placed it on Noct’s bowed head.

_ ‘Then go with our blessings, O Last King Of Lucis, and enjoy your second childhood.’ _

And as his world dissolved into a whirl of ice and thunder, a fiery pain shot through what seemed like his entire body as another voice joined in. _ ‘A gift to you, little prince, from those who are no longer remembered.’ _ Familiar laughter followed him into a familiar darkness.

* * *

Safety. Warmth. A feeling of indescribable contentment. There was nothing here. Nothing to harm, nothing to hurt. Simply a state of being. It was difficult to know how much time was passing, if it even was. Had the gods sent him to a world so unlike his own that he had no way to perceive it?

The world was dark, sounds muffled, voices far off sounding like they were spoken underwater. He couldn’t hear them properly, couldn’t make out the words. Were they even speaking his language? A part of him knew that he should care, that he should try to understand what was going on, but the rest of him knew that he was safe. That everything would be okay.

With that knowledge in mind, he allowed himself to drift, the constant gentle movements lulling him to a peaceful slumber.

Maybe this world wasn’t so bad.

** _\---_ **

The change was sudden and drastic. Traumatising even. One moment, he was napping happily in his peaceful new world, and the next everything changed. First, the walls started to close in on him, forcing him to move and stretch to stop himself from being crushed. Then, he was thrust downward, forcibly pushed from his warm, safe existence, into the freezing air.

His body recoiled; his lungs burned; his eyes watered. All his senses were suddenly overwhelmed. There were smells, sounds, lights. Everything was so damn bright! He could feel movement around him, people were touching him _ everywhere _ . It was too much. Too _ much _.

He screamed.

Distantly, he heard a voice, and for the first time since receiving the gods’ ‘boon’, he could understand the words.

_ ‘A healthy baby boy!’ _

_ **\---** _

He slept for a long time after that. Vaguely aware that time was passing, but having no real connection to the outside world. It felt like a dream. Things happened, experiences, but the memory disappeared as soon as it was over. Nothing stuck. It was like constantly waking up from the hazy scatterings of a distant dream.

Until one day. When he opened his eyes, he was struck with startling clarity. This was his new world. He was awake! He was alive! He was…

Kidnapped.

Hmm… well, this was unfortunate. 

Lucis Caelum Luck strikes again, he supposed as Noct groggily stared at the two strangers angrily shouting near him through drug-addled eyes. He felt whatever they gave him start to wear off as the men continued to argue, one wanting to whisk him away to Niflheim, the other just wanting to kill him and hide the evidence.

Taking care to not make much noise, Noct started to survey the area he was situated in. It seemed that he was in one of the dime-a-dozen warehouses that dotted the Crown City, going by the view he could see from the only window.

Switching his attention back to his kidnappers, he focused inwardly on his magic, trying to hasten his detoxification along, knowing he didn’t have much time before the men realized he was awake and aware. Once fully coherent Noct started towards the window, towards freedom, but stopped as an idea bloomed in his mind.

Slowly, he turned back to the still arguing men and remembered simpler times. Times where two stupid teenagers made a bucket list after watching Home Alone one night after school. He felt his lips curl into a mischievous smile and he rubbed his hands together gleefully as he glanced at all the oh so interesting items he had at his disposal.

_ Thank you Ignis and your endless lectures on using the environment to my advantage… _ He thought as he set to work.

An hour later, Regis and his retinue stared slack-jawed at the two sooty and slime covered men on their knees in front of them, begging to be taken away from the devil child, while the warehouse went up in smoke behind them. Meanwhile, said devil child–his Royal Highness Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum himself–sat swinging his legs back and forth from atop the crate he had climbed up to after his mayhem was complete, innocently whistling as he surveyed the carnage that lay before him.

“Noctis…” His father began, but couldn’t continue on. His mouth was still moving but no sound came out of it as his eyes stayed glued to the absolute chaos happening before him.

“What?” Noct waved both hands in the air, innocently gesturing to the mess around him in the way that only a child could, “You told me that if I ever get kidnapped, I should make a diversion to escape or make something visible to make finding me easier!” He pointed out excitedly. “And look! You found me!” At his dad’s less than pleased facial expression, he crossed his arms and pouted with all the power of a five year old who was cute as fuck and knew it well, “I was only doing what I was told.” He grumbled, feet kicking the crate just that little bit harder.

“Kid's got a point, Regis.” Clarus shrugged when the king looked to his Shield and Crownsguard for help, with Cor still looking a bit wide-eyed at the amount of destruction a single child could cause. The King groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose, looking for all the world like he was regretting getting out of bed this morning. Probably thinking about all the paperwork that this incident would (and probably already had) caused. Oops. Sorry, Dad.

“Aulea is going to love this,” was Regis’ only thought as he tried to corral his wayward child into the Regalia. Noct let himself be put in the back seat as he wondered at the use of his mom’s name. Hints of memories of both of his parents sitting with him in between them, reading to him, swam to the forefront of his mind. Apparently, his mom didn’t get sick this time around, which was great, but then again there was also a suspicious lack of Ignis in his memories, which... wasn't.

Feeling tired from the amount of destruction that he had created, as well as technically using magic for the first time, Noct slumped against his father. He smiled tiredly as Dad combed gentle fingers through his hair. _ I’m glad I decided to take this second chance, _ was his last thought as he drifted to sleep, the memories of his new life playing behind closed eyes.

_ **\--- ** _

Noct hid a smirk behind the stuffed moogle that Cor had handed him (his name was Mana, _don’t_ _judge him_) when they reached the Citadel, listening to his mother laugh herself sick from where they were seated in his father's office.

“Oh, dear gods, Reggie! It looks like _ mo leanbh _ inherited my penchant for mischief as well as your family’s luck. This is perfect!” Aulea hiccuped, her lilting voice ladened with unapologetic mirthful tears. She wiped at her eyes and swept Noct up into a suffocating hug. “Let’s see who'll give Reg his first grey hair, hmm?” She smirked over at her husband, who just buried his face in his hands with a soft groan.

“Why are you like this?” His muffled voice floated up to where Noct had his head tucked into his mother’s neck, basking in her love and affection.

“Oh, ya know ya love me, _ mo chroí _.” Aulea smiled at Regis, who stared at her through spread fingers. He slowly sat up and regarded her with narrow eyes before smirking himself.

“I do. However, some days I truly wonder why.” 

She sniffed playfully, “Rude.”

“I learned from the best, dear heart.” Noct couldn’t help it, he giggled at the cheerful banter. The difference between his father in his old universe and this one was astonishing and he was glad that this Regis had yet to face his mother’s death-and hopefully won’t for many years to come.

His parents caught the giggle and exchanged smiles, “Laughin' at ya poor parents, are ya?” Before he could do anything, Aulea had him on the couch and both adults started tickling him with wild abandon, Noct shrieking with laughter.

Knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever unless someone saved him, he tried calling for back-up. “Uncle Co~or, Uncle Claru~us! Save me~e!” Having been summoned, Clarus walked through the door and smiled at the sight of the Crown Prince brought low by a fearsome tickle attack.

“Unfortunately, your highness, your opponents are too powerful for even I to dare take on.” He smirked, eyes full of hidden mirth. “So you’re on your own, kid.” Noct shot him a glare and swiftly decided that this-this-this _ betrayal _ deserved _ some form _ of payback, so he threw Mana at him and warped after him, bowling the King’s Shield ass over teakettle. There was silence as Aulea and Regis stopped tickling the now empty air and stared at their smug son sitting on a winded Clarus’ chest.

“Did he just-”

“Warp for the first time and take out the fearsome Clarus Amicitia in one fell swoop? Why yes. Yes he did.” Regis pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures. For posterity’s sake, of course. Cor, having heard the commotion from his post next door, stuck his head in to see what was going on. He saw the Shield of the King being used as a Prince’s throne while the prince himself sat atop him with a wicked grin, Regis taking a million pictures with Aulea nearby laughing hysterically. Once he realized that, yes, what he was seeing wasn’t a hallucination, the Crownsguard shook his head and left before whatever madness befell the others could affect him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _Audentes Fortuna Iuvat_ \- Fortune Favors the Bold  
_mo leanbh_ \- my child  
_mo chroí_ \- my heart


	2. Of Nightmares and Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a mother's intuition is a scary scary thing, King Regis can sing and a tough choice has to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Beta'd by the lovely Interstella.
> 
> **Edited 4/29/2020 - ** Re-beta'd by notesoftruth, who can grammar and punctuate like no one's business.
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, and should you find any, please drop a comment and I'll fix it.

_ Noct released a breath as Ardyn’s body burst into a million pyreflies, his last words circling his head. _ ‘I will await you… in the beyond.’  _ The king tilted his head towards the sky he was named after, closing his eyes against the rain, letting it wash away his tears, and breathed deep of the scent of petrichor. _

_ He had hoped that killing Ardyn would end it, hoped that Bahamut–the prophecy–was mistaken. That he really didn’t have to die in order to bring back the dawn. He shook his head and walked away, turning back to what remained of the Citadel, where his Crownsguard turned Kingsglaives were waiting. _

_ **\---** _

_ “So this is farewell.” Ignis states as he faces Noct’s general direction. Noct swallowed harshly. Now was not the time for emotions. _

_ “Yeah. Here we are.” The three Glaives grew restless as the silence lingered.  _

_ Gladio huffed, probably annoyed by all this pussyfooting around–never was willing to beat around the bush, that one–and nodded at his sworn King, “It’s all you.” _

_ Noct nodded in return and turned to walk up the crumbling stairs. _

_ Prompto released a shuddering breath. “No turning back now.” _

_ Noct stopped and, doing exactly that, stared towards his friends who had stayed by his side through thick and thin, and who he still had abandoned when they needed him the most. For ten long years they had waited for him, hoping that he would return. With hundreds dying each day the sun didn’t rise, while he safely slept in the Crystal, and a tiny voice in the back of his mind wondered if he didn’t deserve his fate for taking his own sweet time in coming back. _

_ “Prompto, Gladio, Ignis.” His voice broke on the last name, his oldest friend’s, and he cleared his throat. “I leave it to you. Walk tall… my friends.” _

_ “Godspeed,” Ignis began as, one by one, they held a hand over their heart and bowed, “And take care.” Iron Giants crawled up from the ground behind them, but their focus remained on their monarch. “Majesty.” Ignis added softly. _

_ Noct returned the salute and whispered, “The time has come.” He resumed his walk up the stairs, ignoring the pull of the armiger as his Glaives turned to face the encroaching daemons weapons drawn, knowing that he most likely wouldn't be the only only to die this day. _

** _\---_ **

_ “Dad… Trust in me…” Light slipped through closed lids and he straightened up, opening his eyes in time to see his father’s armored figure fly straight at him. He felt the blade pierce him, his back slamming into the throne, and then he knew no more.  _

* * *

Aulea blinked awake, not quite sure what had disturbed her enough to awaken so suddenly. She sat up and leaned over to kiss her still sleeping husband on the nose, smiling when it twitched cutely, and watched him sleep. Unfortunately, her peaceful introspection was cut short when a foreboding feeling shivered down her spine.

_ Noctis! _ She didn’t know what, exactly, had made her think of her son (Noctis was kidnapped yesterday, what if…?), but she leapt out of bed anyway, startling Regis awake as she grabbed her dressing gown. She distantly heard her husband asking where she was going, but couldn’t recall if she truly answered or not, more concerned about why her instincts were raging. She rushed out the door, scaring the guards stationed outside the chamber as she ran down the hallway, not unlike a bat out of hell.

As Aluea ran closer, the intense need to be swift heightened until she was flat out sprinting towards her son's bedroom. Skidding to a stop, she threw open the door and was blinded by the Crystal’s familiar light. Throwing up her hands in front of her eyes, she blinked away the spots and squinted, crying out as she spotted her baby sitting so still with unseeing eyes staring straight through her. Ignoring Regis’ arrival, and the guards with him, Aulea gathered Noctis in her arms and began gently rocking him back and forth, trying to rouse him from his catatonic state. The king dismissed the discomforted guards back to their posts and sat next to his wife, both parents trying to calm their hysterical son down.

However, it seemed that any progress they had made was lost when Noctis’ eyes landed on his father's concerned face. The five year old screamed as if in horrific pain and began to thrash wildly in Aulea’s arms, trying to get away from a startled and increasingly distressed Regis who, even as he reached for his son, triggered more flailing and even louder shrieks.

Regis, with carefully hidden sorrow in his eyes, withdrew his hand and began to get up, determined to leave if his presence resulted in his baby’s pain. Aulea was having none of that, however. She shifted her squirming child to one arm in order to clamp down on her husband’s hand to prevent him from leaving. She stared into his tearstained eyes with equally wet ones.

“Do ya remember the words ta my family's lullaby?” She whispered, and he shook his head.

“Not all of it, but I believe it will come back to me given time.” He replied in the same quiet tone and she nodded, attempting a soft smile.

“Then stay. Stay and sing with me,  _ mo chuisle _ .” With Regis by her side, one hand carding through Noctis’ sweat-slick hair and the other draped across her shoulders, the Queen quietly began to sing. The King hummed along, voice joining hers once he remembered the words.

_ Inionaí, Inionaí _

_ Codailigí, codailigí _

_ Inionaí, Inionaí _

_ Codailigí, codailigí _

_ Codailigí, Codailigí _

_ Cois a chlé mo, cois a chlé mo, _

_ Codailigí, Codailigí _

_ Socair sásta, socair sásta. _

The Royal couple sang the two stanzas over and over with a gentle love that many hoped to gain but only the truly fortunate ever would. With each repeated verse, the Crystal’s light faded, Noctis’ thrashing slowed, and his screams grew steadily quieter. The feral look drained from his eyes and a small hand rose to tightly grip Regis’ nightshirt. The Royal couple finally let their tears fall as they watched their son slip into an exhausted slumber; the next morning’s sun found them sleeping on Noctis’ bed, curled around their baby, having ensured that his dreams stayed sweet all night long.

* * *

Three months passed by, and with them saw the return of Cor Leonis, the Immortal Crownsguard. His four week mission had finally ended, but the traumas of what he had seen would last him a lifetime. With carefully controlled breathing, Cor managed to keep his composure as he met with the royal family to give his report. And to ask for a favour.

Young Noctis was sitting in the next room, and Cor couldn’t help but glance at him as he delivered his report, glad to see that his nephew wasn’t paying them much attention.

Or rather, he wasn’t showing them the attention he was giving them.

At first, he’d blocked it out. He was five, he had a  _ long _ time until he had to worry about boring politicking. Instead, he was more interested in playing with his toys, like Mana smushed to his chest or the small toy cars his equally small hand pushed across a roadmap rug.

But then a keyword caught his attention.  _ Clones _ .

They had been talking about Niflheim when he’d zoned out, but hearing the word clone… Were they talking about what he thought they were? He tried to listen in without it being obvious, but something must have given him away because Dad stood to close the door between them before calling Clarus to come and claim him for his dreaded tutoring sessions.

_ Damn it.  _ Noct grumbled mentally as his uncle picked him up. He tried to keep his ears strained, but couldn’t make out any more of Cor’s report.

Thanks to his classwork, Noct didn’t remember what he’d been so fucking curious about until a week later when his parents asked him to pick out a new toy for a boy his age. At first, Noct had no idea why they would ask him that. Then he had no idea what a  _ real _ five year old would want.

It wasn’t until he saw a stuffed chocobo that memories of that day came flooding back to him. With a sudden clarity he knew who they were talking about, because what  _ other _ Niff clone did he personally know?

He took a moment, looking between the stuffed chocobo and a toy camera on the shelves. It was a hard decision to make, especially since both of them just  _ really _ screamed Prompto. Eventually, he found himself pointing to the camera, deciding that it would be strange to see the blond without one.

When the gift was chosen, his parents took him to the Citadel Infirmary, where they introduced him to a familiar stranger. “Noctis,” Regis said with a soft smile, depositing his son on the chair beside the bed. “This is Prompto, Cor’s new son.”

He couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t. It had been so long since he’d seen that face, since he’d seen someone he’d spent most of his life with. Even if he didn’t remember, even if this wasn’t  _ his _ Prompto, it was still  _ Prompto _ .

Noct found himself launching forward, jumping on the bed to wrap his arms around the tiny blond. “Hiya, Prom!” he called, not caring that his eyes were watering.

Yeah, having his dad and mom and surrogate aunts and uncles was nice, but there was something about having a familiar face his own age. Especially since Gladio and Iggy weren’t around, and he didn’t know if they ever would be.

_ **\---** _

And, as it turns out, Prompto did indeed love his new camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is called 'Fiona's Lullaby' from the Movie _Secret of Roan Inish._ If you haven't seen it, I suggest doing so as it is amazing and the second reason why I love Irish Stuff (the first being that is it's in my blood and therefore probably a legal requirement).
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
> _mo chuisle_ \- my pulse
> 
> **Song Translation:**
> 
> Little one, little one  
Sleep, sleep  
Little one, little one  
Sleep, sleep
> 
> Sleep, sleep  
Beside my bosom, beside my bosom  
Sleep, sleep  
Peacefully serene, peacefully serene


	3. Of Little Siblings and Promises Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which grown men faint at unexpected news and Noctis swears some oaths over tiny bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat Beta'd? But, anyway, have some cute bebes.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** Fully beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, should you find any, drop a comment and I'll fix it.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Nada

It had been little over a year to the day since Noct met this world’s Prompto, and he was glad that the shyly self-conscious boy he half remembered from Primary School was nowhere to be seen. Evidently, being raised by Cor the Immortal had its perks. One such perk being that if the newly promoted Marshall (the youngest ever to be promoted!) ever had to leave Insomnia for an extended period of time, Prompto could be dropped off at the Citadel instead of being forced to fend for himself.

Just having a child his age to play with and/or a trustworthy adult to look after him when his dad wasn't around was completely erasing the self-worth issues that Other!Prompto had had; though maybe the isolation that the blond had felt in his last life had been the starting point of those issues? Anyway, the fact that that's all it took  _ really _ made Noct hate that he couldn’t find a way back to his original time, track down those assholes his best friend called parents and punch their fucking lights out. He growled as he thought about it. Because why the hell didn’t they just A) bring Prompto with them or B) fork out cash for a babysitter to go make sure their adoptive child was ok? The Argentums weren’t hurting for money judging by the way Prompto ate away his loneliness, so what the fuck, people?!

His seething session was interrupted by Prompto’s gleeful shriek and Noct suddenly found himself on his back in one of the Citadel’s numerous meticulously kept ponds. He blinked rapidly and jerked up to glare at his snickering friend. “You–”  _ Motherfucker _ was bit back as Prompto squeaked and ran away. Noct found a rock to throw at the fleeing blond, warping after it as soon as the projectile was in touching distance. The momentum of his warp had him crashing into the other child and they went down in a tangle of limbs. Noct won the following tussel, and sat down hard on his best friend’s chest, giggling at the muffled whoosh of breath that left him. “The King reigns victoriously once more!” he gloated from his new throne.

“No fair, Nooooooct!” Prompto wiggled around, trying to get free, but only succeeded in getting himself even more dirty. “Get oooooooff.”

“Nope.” He denied and settled down harder. “A king must have a throne, and you have been chosen for the honor of being so.”

A shadow fell over him and he looked up, pouting when his dad picked him up off the still squirming Prompto. “You aren’t king yet, my son, so off you get.” His friend dashed away as soon as he was free and hid behind a visibly amused Cor’s legs, offering a razzberry while Noct glared at him from over his dad’s shoulder. Rude.

“Playtime’s over, children.” Regis settled Noctis more firmly on his hip, and turned to face his godson. “Prompto, it was a pleasure to have you with us, as always. Enjoy your time with your dad. And Cor,” Switching his attention to his little brother, he clapped his free hand on his shoulder. “I will see you the day after tomorrow for the rest of your mission report.” The King started back towards the door to the Citadel, tossing some parting words over his shoulder as he went. “Noctis and I need to see Aulea, it seems she has some news for us.”

** _\---_ **

Regis fainted. Like completely passed out, flat on the floor. Apparently, the news that he was going to be a father twice over was too much for him and the poor man went down like a sack of royal potatoes. Aulea ended up leaning heavily against the wall, head buried in her arms, laughing until she cried. Clarus couldn’t (more like didn’t even try to) hide his grin when he came to investigate the strange noises coming from his brother’s study and Aulea told him why the king was currently knocked out cold on the floor being poked by his six year old son.

Of course, Regis had his revenge when, not even a week later, Clarus’ wife Heather came by his office to apologize that, while Noctis would not have an Amicitia Shield, the newest Lucis Caelum would. In her own words: ‘A new Baby Shield for a new Baby Royal.’ Then it was Regis’ turn to smirk wickedly at the sight his older brother made as the unconscious man was turned into a canvas by a metallic pink marker-wielding Crown Prince.

(Father high-fived Son behind fuming Shield’s back as he tried to clean the graffiti which proclaimed him to be a pretty pretty princess in pink off his face. Unfortunately for him, the marker that Noct used had special ink that wouldn’t come off unless cleaned with alcohol and Cor, the only other person who knew about said cleaning method, kept his mouth shut as Regis wasn’t the only brother Clarus had pissed off that week.)

* * *

Fast forward 8 months later and Noct thought he might be the only one who, besides his mother herself, was prepared when she announced that she was in labor and would like to go to the hospital, please. The rest of them were running around like crazy people, and even Cor– _ The Immortal _ , the man who had  _ almost won  _ against the _ Spirit of the Blademaster  _ in a _ swordfight _ –was panicking, and if he was panicking, then his son was sure to follow.

True to form, as soon as Prompto saw his dad pacing nervously, the blond began to walk with him. Noct turned to stare at his way too amused mother and asked, “Were they this bad when I was born, Mama?”

Mom snorted. “Oh no, they were much worse. I was with Clarus an’ Heather at the time, havin’ a late lunch when my water broke. They took me ta the hospital, with Heather drivin’ as  _ somebody _ looked like  _ he _ was the one about ta have a baby, not me. Anyways, after we arrived she called Cor with the update, because he and your father were halfway across the city attendin’ a meetin’. Next thing I know, I’m in a hospital bed an’ Clarus gets a message sayin’ my darlin’ husban’ an’ his foolish friend had crashed the Regalia an’ were currently on their way towards the hospital.”

Noct couldn’t believe his ears, Dad had actually crashed the Regalia while on the streets of Insomnia? When Mom confirmed that yes, he did indeed hear that correctly, he started giggling maniacally which drew Dad’s–and everyone else’s–attention.

Regis took one look at his son’s gleeful face and groaned, knowing exactly which story Aulea was telling. “Why? Why did you have to tell him that? I want him to have some form of respect for me as a parent before he reaches the inevitable grumpy teenage years!” He bemoaned his future fate as the uncool parent while his wife rolled her eyes at his childish antics.

“Regis, after watchin’ ya run around for ten minutes lookin’ like – oh, what's a good term? (“A chicken with its head cut off!” Noctis piped up and Aulea snapped her fingers.) Yes, thank ya, Noctis. A chicken with its head cut off, ya really think  _ that _ is the reason you’re goin’ ta lose his respect?” The rest of the adults snickered as he glared balefully at her and Noctis patted him on the arm half consolingly, half mockingly.

“Can we go take Mama to the hospital, now? Unless we’re doing an at home birth and someone has a midwife on call? Cuz that’s cool too.”

Dad looked down at him, “How do you even know what that is? You’re seven.”

“I like to read. I’m also curious and Mama is–was? is going to be?–having a baby. Take a guess, Papa.” Noct thought he might've strained something with the amount of times he had rolled his eyes this past half hour.

Dad opened his mouth, thought about it, then decided against whatever he was about to say. “Alright, you make a fair point. All ready to go, m’dear?”

Now it was Mom’s turn to roll her eyes, “Yes,  _ mo ghrá _ . I’ve been ready for the past 15 minutes while ya an’ your retinue have been, ah, I really hate to repeat myself but, really Regis? Runnin’ around like a chicken with its head cut off?” Mom raised an eyebrow at her sheepish husband before turning to his Shield. “However, Clarus, I truly hate ta think what’s goin’ ta happen next month when Heather gives birth ta ya own sprog.”

“Who I still think is going to be a boy, and you should name him Gladiolus.” Noct cut in with a smirk. He had a 50/50 chance of being right. After all, it could be Iris, because if his own altered birthday of January 1st (and Prompto’s of May 24th) was any indication, the birth order of the Amicitia Siblings could also have been changed. 

“You don’t have to remind me, Aulea.” Uncle Clarus grumbled before looking down at him. “And kid, if you’re right and it’s not the girl that the sonogram is telling us that we’re having, you can be the kid’s godfather.”

“Deal.” They shook on it as everyone finally finished gathering what they needed.

Dad’s whine of,  _ but what about me? _ as the procession of people walked out the door had Uncle Cor growling, “You’re already Prompto’s Godfather. Are you telling me my kid’s not good enough for you?” Dad squeaked, in a manly way he would insist on in later retellings.

“Yeah, Uncle Regis, am I not good enough?” Bless Prompto and his little troublemaking heart. He even brought out the crocodile tears, which had Dad scrambling to promise that,  _ No, of course he’s good enough  _ and _ Prompto will always be his favorite Godson  _ and  _ Can he please stop crying because your dad is starting to finger his katana and Uncle Reggie doesn’t want to become a shishkabob. _

The Marshall, having decided that his brother had suffered enough, smirked at his kid and Prompto immediately stopped the waterworks. Everyone laughed as Dad finally realized that he had been had and started grumbling about the lack of respect the supposed reigning monarch got around here.

_ **\---** _

After 9 hours of hard labor, at 6 PM on April 1st M.E. 733, the Royal Family finally welcomed Lunaris Lucis Caelum into their open arms. As the third person to hold her, Noct watched her sleeping peacefully and promised himself that she would not grow up like he did; never knowing if those who hung around only did so because it was their duty, or people putting something or someone else before her. She would always have him;  _ that _ he swore on the Crystal he was once imprisoned in.

Then, it was with great reluctance that he relinquished his hold on baby Ari–because he had one Luna already–back to Mom and instead turned his attention to Uncle Clarus, who... just received a phone call? The man stepped away to take it and Noct wasn’t eavesdropping, he had no idea what you were talking about, none whatsoever. The call lasted all of 30 seconds and boy, Noct did not like how quickly his uncle’s face drained of color nor the way his voice trembled when he tried to get Dad’s attention. “Regis?”

“Yes, Clarus?” Dad answered distractedly, never taking his eyes off his newborn daughter suckling contentedly at her mother’s breast.

“My baby’s come early.”  _ That _ particular phrasing caught everyone’s attention and they all honed in on the quaking Shield as one being. “That was Heather. Her water broke, she’s en route to the hospital and wants me asap.” His voice sounded dazed.

“Go, Clarus. Cor will be sufficient protection while you go witness the birth of your child.” Dad made a shoo-ing motion with his free hand, the other not letting up it’s gentle combing of Mom’s sweaty hair.

“Thank you, your majesty. By your leave.” Uncle Clarus bowed, still stuttering, and was about to walk out when Noct swung off the chair he was sitting on and ran to catch up to the much taller adult.

“Wait up, I’ll come too!”

Regis narrowed his eyes at his now eldest offspring, “And where do you think you’re going, young man?”

Noctis poked his head back through the door to quickly say, “I have Godfather-ship riding on this baby’s gender! Besides, someone has to make sure Uncle Clarus actually makes it there and doesn’t end up passed out in a closet somewhere.” He waved a quick goodbye before running quickly to catch up to his unsteady uncle. The king looked like he was debating whether or not to go after his wayward son when Aulea stopped him with a firm look.

“Let him be,  _ mo chuisle _ . Noctis will be safe enough with Clarus an’ I agree that the man may need some help with not passin’ out on the floor somewhere. He’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right, dear heart.” He sighed and she rolled her eyes.

“Of course I’m right, when have ya ever known me ta be wrong?”

“How about that time where we–” Aulea slapped a hand over her husband’s mouth.

“Swore ta never speak of again?" Her eyes narrowed at her husband and she tried to ignore the way he nipped at her palm. “Stop that. Right now."

Regis removed her hand with a gentle tug, bringing it up to his mouth and kissed her fingers softly, lips quirked into a quick smile. “Yes, dearest.”

_ **\---** _

Noct steered the still shaky Shield around the normal hustle and bustle of the Maternity Ward until they reached a desk where one could inquire about where one’s soon to be no longer pregnant wife should be. Once that information had been obtained, the journey continued until they had reached their destination, and they found Aunt Heather in the midst of trying to push something the size of a football out of a much smaller hole. Uncle Clarus rushed in and let his hand be crushed by his very upset wife, who swore that she was never letting him touch her again,  _ ever _ .

Noct sat outside the door, and decided that he was very glad that he lacked the necessary equipment to go through that much pain. Actually, he winced as Heather let loose another deafening shriek, he didn’t want to put any woman through that; he was just going to adopt. Or make Lunaris his heir, there had to be something about that in the library, right? Right??

The next 12 hours passed slowly, and by the time April 2nd rolled around, his dad and other uncle had joined him in waiting outside the birthing room for any news. Prompto had finally fallen asleep on a chair and Noct was close to following behind, when a smiling Clarus gestured to them through the open door. Cor shook his son awake and they all shuffled quietly into the room with a tired but happy Heather holding her newborn up to her breast. Once they were full and burped, she waved Noct closer and placed the sleepy infant in his arms. “A deal’s a deal, Noctis, so meet your godson, Gladiolus.”

Noct didn’t even rib his uncle about being right about the gender, being captivated as he was by the child drowsily looking in his general direction. “Hey there, teeny tiny Gladioli.” He looked down into baby blue eyes that was sure to soon darken into amber whiskey, and–after sneakily glancing around to make sure that no one was no one close enough to hear him–leaned in close to whisper, “I guess it’s my turn to shield you now, isn’t it? I promise to do my best, little brother, but no one could nor ever will do a better job than you.” He smiled warmly as Gladio sleepily curled a tiny hand around his finger and held on tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _mo ghrá_ \- my love  
_mo chuisle_ \- my pulse


	4. Of Sacrifices and Family Histories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis is kidnapped yet again, but learns some interesting truths in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   

> 
> Anyway, sorry this took so long, life kinda got in the way of me writing.
> 
>   
**EDIT 4/29/2020 -** beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
>   
**Trigger Warning:**  
Implied Cannibalism
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, should you spot some, please leave a comment and I'll fix it

Noct jolted awake, groaning when he _once again_ found himself in a very different place than where he remembered falling asleep. He _so_ did not remember getting abducted this many times in his old life and holy _Fuck_ was this getting ridiculous. Did he do something to piss off a higher power recently? He contemplated his previous–rather admittedly–poorly made life choices and sighed. With his brand of luck, it was more than likely.

Well, time to see what the kidnappers wanted _ this _ time. However, before Noct could wiggle out of the handcuffs binding him, the room jerked hard to the left and he went flying, smacking face first into the wall. His nose connected with solid metal and, trying to ignore the tears of pain as well as the sudden bloody waterfall leaking from his nose, he turned his head to glare as the door behind him slammed open. In sauntered a tall and burly woman, who seemed to take delight at his pain, if the way she smirked down at him meant anything at all.

“Good morning, ya highness. I hope ya found yer accommodations good enough to sleep in.” He wrinkled his nose–_ ow _ , why’d he do that–and was very glad that he could only smell blood, instead focusing on her thick Leiden accent. That was a _ much _ more pleasant reminder of better days talking with Cid and Cindy, he thought, as she smiled very much like a behemoth who had found a tasty snack. Lovely.

“It was great!” He returned her smile, holding back a laugh when her manic grin faded slightly in the face of his cheeky behavior. “Could have done without the painful wake up call, though.”

His captor grit her teeth, undoubtedly fighting to keep the smile on her face. “Such sass from such a small child.” She chided mockingly, probably trying to goad him into letting her regain the upper hand that she never really had to begin with.

“And such rude behavior from an _ astoundingly kind _ woman such as yourself.” Noct bared his teeth in a parody of a friendly grin, laughing even as the woman brought a hand sharply across his face– _ again?! Owwwww… _–and growled, which really didn't help the whole behemoth thing she had going on there.

“I would watch what I was sayin’ if I was ya. I could make the time ya have left very uncomfortable.” She snapped harshly. And really, could she get any more cliché? He snorted–grimacing at the taste of blood that action brought with it–and rolled his eyes. After facing Gods and the daemons from literal Hell, this bitch didn't even rate on his danger/fear/hey-maybe-we-shouldn’t-fight-this-dangerous-looking-creature-but-we’re-going-to-anyway-aren’t-we metre.

He spat the lovely mouthful of blood that had collected on his tongue at her feet and decided to go for broke while he was at it. Channeling his inner Gladio, he smirked up at her enraged expression. “I ain’t afraid of you lady. What are you gonna do, smack me around some more?”

Behemoth Lady snarled at his continued refusal to be cowed like a good little kidnappee, but… _ something _ must’ve calmed her down enough to let her think somewhat clearly. “Hmm… I suppose I could tell ya, we’re already much too far away from land fer ya to get back to daddy dearest.” She lazily tapped her chin in thought, before shrugging.

“Alright. You, my teeny tiny baby prince, are goin’ to be sacrificed to the great Leviathan, to allow us safe travels across the unknown seas.” Crazy lady said what now? He knew his mouth was hanging open in an unsightly manner for a member of the royal family–thanks inner Iggy for that wonderful bit of commentary–but… just… what? The? What? Huh??

Noctis.exe has stopped working, please close and restart application from the start menu.

He blinked rapidly before he found his voice again and rebooted from the minor blue-screen his mind went through. “Let me get this straight,” He massaged the bridge of his nose and let his hand drop so that a finger pointed towards himself. “You’re going to sacrifice _ me _ . To _ Leviathan _.” Then, with hands now spread as wide as he could make them, he added, “For safe passage?”

The woman nodded and the two stared at each other before Noct couldn't hold it in any more. “_ Why _ would you do such a thing?” He blurted out, not able to believe that anyone could be so _ fucking stupid _ . Everyone knew Leviathan was more likely to drown someone than to offer her protection, so where the _ fuck _ did this lady even get the idea from?

Thankfully, his captor decided to continue monologuing her dastardly plan, so assured that this truly wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. “We found some Ancient Solheim texts detailing a ritual that’ll, with royal blood spilled in the Tidemother's honor, calm ‘er rage an’ allow those in the vicinity ‘er mark.”

Has she never read a book? Or seen a movie, even? ‘Cause this is how bad things happen. Ancient secrets that tempt people into doing crazy shit and then they turn around and _ Bam! _ They’re dead, along with their group and any innocents that had the misfortune of being nearby, while the known world burns to a crisp in the background.

She laughed after he said as much out loud. “Ya watch too much TV, ya highness! Real life don’t work like that. The worst thin’ that’ll happen’s that it won’t work. No harm, no foul.”

Noct couldn’t help himself. He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand probably hard enough to leave a mark, and dragged it down his face–bypassing his poor nose–to where he could comfortably muffle his scream of… something. This was it. This is how he was going to die. His short life was going to end, drowned and probably eaten by who knows what, because some fucking _ idiots _ , who apparently have never seen any kind of film in their entire lives, have decided to trust a ritual from an ancient civilization to calm an Astral down–a civilization that was _ destroyed _, mind you, because they pissed off an Astral.

He could not believe this. “All the work you must have put in to kidnap me, not to mention the risk of imprisonment you ran as you did so, and you’re going to _kill_ _me_ in a ritual that might not even _work_?” His voice steadily rose in pitch until he was finally flat out screeching, trying to plead with whatever form of common sense she had left swimming around her animal brain.

The woman shrugged, the smirk right back on her face now that he was no longer quite so calm and collected. “Niflheim wants ya dead, kiddo, an’ they’re offerin’ a hefty sum fer proof o’ yer demise.” Noct mulled over this new interesting bit of information as that behemoth smirk widened. It… would certainly explain all the kidnapping attempts, now wouldn’t it? He shook his head at himself, that was not the point he was going for but he hoped that his dad figured it out all the same.

“Lady, this is not going to end well. For any of us.” Noct sighed and offered no resistance as she grabbed his bound hands and dragged him through to the door to his very uncertain future. They walked down the hallway until they reached another door, this one leading outside. The sudden sunlight blinded Noct, who wished he could have at least shielded his eyes, and he waited a moment for them to adjust. Blinking away the spots that danced about quickly, he squinted across the water, hoping to see some form of land, or even another ship (hell, he’d take that too) but there was nothing. Nothing but the deep blue sea for miles and miles around. Fuuuuuck, there went that idea. Well, time for Plan S, because he was screwed beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Noct turned back to the woman and belatedly realized that he had never gotten her name. He stared at her for a second and decided he couldn't care less. “You know that this is going to come back to haunt you, right?” He asked as the crew members flocked around the ritual slab. Or, at least, that's what he assumed the intricately carved piece of stone was meant for.

(He really had to fight the urge to giggle hysterically at the mental image of a Solheimr undead creature showing up and demanding they _ return the slab _ . Like, c'mon brain, think of old cartoons _ later _, damn it.)

The woman ignored him as she motioned one of her men forward. “Are ya ready, yer highness?” She was handed a wickedly sharp and very ornate looking bone dagger, and Noct swallowed harshly at the proof that his life was in actual danger for the first time since waking up with memories of a different time stuck in his head.

“Would you let me go if I said no?” He asked rhetorically as he eyed the dagger, hoping that this wasn’t–but knowing that it was–about to go the way he thought it would.

“Cute.” She smiled meanly and began chanting. His throat was slit and the words followed his body as it was tossed overboard. He sank rapidly, the shock of being submerged in sudden cold stealing his last breath. All he could honestly think of was if the stupid prank he and Prompto had set up before this whole debacle started had worked out or not.

Those memories flew from his mind the minute his body began to feel like it was being torn apart from the inside out and–_Astrals,_ he hoped that he would die before whatever it was that just touched his leg decided that he would make a nice snack! Because _of_ _fucking_ _course_, life thought that dying by liquid asphyxiation and/or exsanguination wasn’t enough for it’s favourite chew toy, something just had to have come along and decided to _eat him!_

Suddenly, the pain spiked sharply. Noct involuntarily opened his mouth to scream and blacked out before water could finish filling his burning lungs.

_ **\---** _

He woke up. He remembered passing out while his lungs filled with water, and he knew that wasn’t supposed to happen, unless someone managed to find him. The thought made Noct jerk his eyes open, but–nope, still under water. How the hell was any of this poss–_ holy shit, what happened to his legs?! _

He stared in shock as, instead of two pale human limbs floating uselessly in the water like he was expecting, he now had a fancy black and blue fishtail that reminded him of the betta fish that his Dad once kept in his office. His mounting breakdown gained more momentum when he noticed scales crawling up his arms and down his tor–were those _ gills?! _ Nope. Nopenopenopenope. Noooope. He yanked at his hair– _ ear fins, too?! _ –and mumbled, “What the–why am I–how even–I’m a _ fucking mermaid! _”

His panic reached critical levels when the words came out crisp and clear even though he was probably miles underwater. Then, to make a _ great _ day even fucking better, he accidentally bit his lip and winced as suspiciously sharp teeth–please tell him these were for opening clam shells–tore through the skin like it was fucking tissue paper.

As he sucked on the bleeding flesh, Noct glared at nothing in particular as he tried to figure out how, exactly, he became a supposedly mythical creature. When a few minutes passed with nothing coming to mind, he puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms in a pout. Screw it, this was probably Ardyn's fault somehow, he just knew it and next time Noct had that stupid ring, he was going to give that bastard of a many times great grandfather a piece of his fucking mind, mark his words.

Unfortunately, there were more important things to deal with first, like how the fuck does one move with a tail? An experimental flick left sent him literally screaming off into the opposite direction and he frantically steered right to avoid running (or, uh, swimming) head first into a large rock, saving his poor nose from more abuse. That was one crisis averted, and now just about twenty more to go. Fucking. Joy. Just… _ happy days _. He groaned and waffled about before finally buckling down to spend what felt like hours learning the ways his new body moved. Soon enough he was happily swimming like, well, a fish. Take that, all you non-believers!

As a reward for learning new things when he all he really wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry, he started to explore his surroundings, darting in between broken ruins and coral infested shipwrecks with shiny trinkets floating about, until something not-so-shiny caught his eye. Before him was a mostly intact town, but that wasn’t what had his attention. No, that honor belonged to the dark spot in the middle of the town square and he drifted closer to take a look. Of course, that was before said dark spot decided to _ speak _.

_ “Greetings, young fry.” _ Noct squeaked and ducked behind a large rock as he saw Leviathan herself lift her head to look at him. How could he understand her?! Weren't only oracles and the dead supposed to be able to understand the Astrals?!

Apparently he spoke his thoughts out loud because the giant sea serpent hissed out a laugh. Noct poked his head up over the top of the rock and squeaked again when he saw the Hydraean still looking at him, visibly amused. He didn’t understand how amusement was plain to see on the scaly face that had been a recurring feature in his nightmares after Altissia, but it was and it was weird.

_“Is the fry’s own heritage so unknown?”_ The sea serpent asked and Noct blinked in confusion, did she always sound like that? Because he remembered a very different voice, one echoey and loud, not musical and soft, though perhaps being underwater had something to do with it. The Astral sighed as he continued to stare up at her without a word. _“The lineage of the fry’s Sire is recorded true, bound as it is by the Healer's Scourge and the first Blessed's Power. However, unspoken must be the birth of the Dame’s.”_ Noct perked up, eager to know if Mom’s stories were true._ “Indeed, her line inherited the Raging Fires and Tranquil Ice from the broken Sunland’s worshipped King and Consort.”_

The Sunland? Noct guessed Solheim could be translated as such, and he knew the ancient empire wor...shipped... oh. His train of thought braked heavily on its tracks as he froze in shock and slowly drifted down to settle limply on the ocean floor. _ Oh. _

In a daze, he let his body be picked up by a curious current and tried to ignore the way he was deposited in front of the Queen of the Waters like a fetched stick. He looked up into eyes that had seen the death of ages past and asked, “Are you trying to tell me that Mom is descended from Ifrit and Shiva? That she’s–what would you even call that–Astral-blooded?”

The serpent bobbed her head. _ “That Bloodline is the reason the fry was thus chosen. Of those who bore the Crystal's magic, none that came before could survive its enhancing embrace. Only the King, with his more than mortal blood, could have lived long enough to bring back the dawn after absorbing that amount of power.” _

“Mom was like that in my last life too?” Then something occurred to him and he stuttered out, “B-but if that's true, why couldn't I understand you at Altissa? Or even before that, with Titan at the Disc?”

_ “The First Oracle's Blood mixed and strengthened understanding that which was already present.” _ Leviathan shuffled about the ruins, twisting and turning in abstract patterns that served little to distract Noct from the Earth-shattering secrets currently being uncovered. _ “Many are the differences between universes, young fry, but there is always one constant in this sea of possibilities. The King’s Dame, the one who bares him, whether they be biologically male, female or otherwise, will carry some form of tie to Ifrit's Folly. Always.” _

Ignoring that in some universes it was apparently possible for men to get pregnant and have babies (he shuddered as he remembered the screams his mother and aunt let loose–and what was that _ biologically otherwise _ about?!), he instead focused on another rather necessary question. “If it was my bloodline that gave me power, then why did I have to die to bring back the dawn? Why was my death so important?”

The Hydraean let loose a sigh strong enough to disturb the waters around them. _ “In life the Chosen had power greater than most, but in the Land of the Dead, unburdened by mortality as he was, that power was limitless. Unfortunately, that vast power could not be rebound within a simple human frame, and so the soul drifted, unmoored, into Death.” _

She began to uncoil her lengthy body, shaking fatigue from it. _ “However, let this talk of histories that no longer matter cease. The fry has been granted a chance not many have been given and thus new powers do awaken. So, to guide this fry true, another form must be taken.” _

With that, Leviathan shot up through the water and twisted round and round, until she had created a whirlpool large enough to conceal her entire form. The eddy swirled ominously for a minute before shrinking, taking the serpent-like body with it and leaving behind a figure that looked remarkably like a naked female version of 30 year old Noct, just with fins more Shark to his Betta. Although, for some reason, the full frontal nudity didn’t bring a blush to his cheeks, which was weird because he distinctly remembered his face being on fire when he accidentally walked in on his parents having sex last week.

Whatever, he shook his head and wondered why he should care when there were much more interesting things at hand. Like the similarities between them, he decided as he swam closer to the other mermaid, eyes and fingers tracing the scaled patterns that were spread across her chest in fascination. A larger hand caught his and Noct blinked up at Leviathan, who just smiled and trailed her other hand down his skin, glowing freckles of differing sizes appearing in its wake.

_ “Shame is a human failing, one that a Mer such as yourself need not know nor understand.” _ He hesitated, feeling like he should be feeling something different about the situation he was in, but ultimately shrugged it away. It probably wasn't important. After all, why should a Mer be frightened of their patron or their natural environment? Almost as if she read his mind, the Ocean Queen laughed again. _ “You ceased being a landwalker–with their silly and strange inhibitions–the moment you gained your tail. Though, the question of regaining those traits with your legs remains to be answered.” _

The reminder of him previously actually having said limbs prompted him to ask an almost forgotten question, along with reminding him of his family, who, now that he thought about it, were probably losing their minds with worry. “And how does one regain lost limbs, Tidemother?”

Her eyebrow rose high on her forehead. _ “Oh?” _ She asked. _ “You would return to the surface so soon? Before we even had a chance to continue our conversation?” _ The amused tone belied her harsh words, however.

“My apologies, Tidemother, but my parents must be worried, and I don’t want to stress them out too much, not with what little sleep they have been getting lately thanks to my little sister.” Noct tried to bow, and giggled when he ended up doing a flip instead after bending too far forward. “Whoops.”

_ “What a dutiful son you are, young fry, to fret so over your kith and kin instead of yourself when faced with a goddess. Especially one that is associated with such bad memories.” _ Instead of being angry as he had feared, the Hydraean seemed pleased as she cooed over his antics. _ “Come then, this will not take long.” _ With that, Leviathan gathered Noct in her arms and took off in the direction he had come from.

_ “In my slumber, my other self told me all about you: the Crystal’s Chosen, the King of Light, the King of Kings. How you stood your ground against her and demanded that she hear your voice. How you then sacrificed yourself for a world that never cared, to bring back the dawn for people that soon forgot about the price that had been paid for such a miracle. You intrigued me, young fry, and when that foolish wench tried to enact that loathsome ritual, and your spirit unlocked a hidden power to save your mortal shell, I knew I had to meet you.” _

They finally slowed to a crawl and the Hydraean pressed a firm kiss to Noct’s forehead before letting him squirm out of her hold. “Thank you for the ride, Tidemother, but why have we stopped here in particular?”

_ “We are here to teach some dimwitted fools not to meddle with certain powers that lay far beyond their reach.” _ He looked up and blinked at the bottom of the ship that apparently held the people who had tried to sacrifice him. _ “Tell me, young fry, are you hungry?” _ He tilted his head at the apparent non sequitur, but Leviathan just smiled slyly. _ “Well?” _

“I could definitely eat something?” Noct kind of had an idea of where this was going. Once again, he was sure that if he still had his 'strange and silly human inhibitions' (yes, those mental finger quotes were very necessary) he'd probably be running away screaming in disgust and terror. But mostly disgust.

_ “Then wait here while I go… fishing.” _ Before he could say something about that truly horrible play on words, she was already back in sea serpent form, wrapped around the ship a dozen times over. It didn’t take long for the vessel to break apart as she squeezed with her not inconsiderable strength. The crew had quickly abandoned ship, waiting for the Hydraean to cease her thrashing, not realizing that the danger lay not with the Astral above, but the sea creatures below. Noct watched with not so horrified fascination as aquatic carnivores of all kinds swam towards the sinking survivors, probably following the call of the Tidemother.

Watching the feeding frenzy, he was reminded of a song that he had once heard over the Regalia's radio, back in his first life when his only concern was getting to Altissia in time for his marriage to Luna. Before the Fall, before Ardyn, before the Ten Years of Darkness began.

_ Death doesn’t discriminate _

_ Between the sinners and the saints _

_ It takes and it takes and it takes _

He was so busy watching people being eaten that he didn’t notice Leviathan return until she spoke, back in her Mer form and with a struggling human in her arms. _ “A bite to eat, young fry, then some lessons to be taught and learned before I return you to your kin. Though I must ask that you visit again, sometime in the future.” _ He turned around, locking gazes with the woman who had sought to subjugate an Astral through the sacrifice of a child, and watched as her eyes widened in terror.

Noct leaned up and murmured in her ear, “You should have listened to me, lady.” He pulled back and smiled at her, showing off his pearly white fangs. “I told you this would come back to haunt you.”

* * *

When the Royal Vessel finally caught up to the kidnapper's ship, a day after his son was taken, Regis could only look upon the wreckage in desolate horror as debris rocked atop the deceptively docile waves. He didn't move as Clarus laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, “He may have washed ashore somewhere, Regis, don't give up on him. He's a wily kid that one, so keep on believing that he made it and don't stop until we have solid evidence to the contrary.”

The two brothers watched the water in silence, hoping to catch sight of... _ something _, anything, when the young king suddenly stiffened, catching his Shield's attention. “Regis?” The king jerked his arm away and leaned over the railing, summoning a spear from his Armiger to fish something out of the water. “What is it?” Clarus asked as he looked over Regis' shoulder, trying to see what he had fished out, but his hand covered it too quickly.

“I hope you are right, Clarus, in the belief that Noctis has found his way to somewhere safe.” The hand opened and the Shield inhaled sharply as a well loved Carbuncle carving was revealed. “For I despair of finding the opposite.”

_ **\---** _

Two days later, the Royal Family broke down at the sight of the only thing the search and rescue crew had found. The grieving parents wept over the tattered remains of Noctis' new shirt, the chocobo one he had been so excited to show off to Prompto only three days before, and Regis' hand curled tightly around the Carbuncle carving while Aulea hid her tear-stained face in Lunaris' blankets. The 14 month old slept on–unaware that she had just become the new Crown Princess–while Gladiolus did the same in his own parents' arms. Cor, who was having trouble hiding his own grief, tried to explain to an increasingly distressed Prompto why his best friend was likely never coming back.

“No! I don't believe you!” The cry that escaped the eight year old's lips shattered already broken hearts. “Noct would never leave us! You're lying!” Cor enveloped his sobbing son in a bear hug and started rocking him back and forth gently. “You're lying,” Prompto repeated softly, “You have to be.” His dad kissed his hair gently.

“I'm sorry, cub.” The Marshall lost the fight against his tears and let them fall into blond hair. “I'm so sorry.”

_ **\---** _

Later that day, they gathered at the cliff overlooking the Crown City, near Regis' and Noctis' favorite fishing spot. They were dressed in their funeral best and they each carried two lilies, the night blooming Casablanca and the black petaled Calla. They had wanted to mourn the little boy that brought light into their lives quietly; when his death was announced to the rest of the Kingdom tomorrow, it would surely be turned into a spectacle.

Prompto was the first to notice the waters below beginning to churn violently. He ran towards the edge, letting his father's hand go, which caught Cor's attention. “Prompto!” The Marshall cried out as a wall of water rose and threatened to drench him before he yanked his son behind him.

“What's going on?” Heather held Gladiolus protectively against her chest as the group waited for whatever made the wave to appear. Those old enough to wield weapons did so with them in hand. Prompto gasped when a serpentine head rose from the depths, showering them with ocean spray as it stared at them.

“The Hydraean...” Clarus breathed, the group slowly resheathing their weapons as they stared at the Astral before them. Leviathan narrowed her eyes at them before nodding, letting her frills drop to reveal a shivering, half-naked burr clinging to her neck. The burr detached itself and slumped to the ground, uncurling to reveal messy black hair and bright blue eyes.

“Oh Gods, Noctis!” Aulea quickly scrambled to her thought-to-be-dead baby, while also being mindful of the little one slumbering away in her arms. Regis followed at a _ slightly _ more sedate pace, keeping an eye on the known-to-be-very-temperamental Astral.

“Mama, Papa…” Noctis whimpered as his parents gathered him in their arms, weeping tears of joy as they held their children close. Prompto, of course, couldn't wait his turn and ripped himself from his father's arms, running over to wiggle his way into the hug.

“I told them you couldn’t be dead, I told them and they didn't believe me.” He whispered to his best friend, who blinked tiredly at him. The Queen laughed wetly.

“And we should have, Prompto.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and went back to making sure her baby was okay. “Oh, how we should have.”

Noctis, having enough of being squished, squirmed away from the hug and bowed to the Astral. “Thank you, Tidemother. For everything.” He giggled when the serpent bent down and nuzzled him softly. She nudged him back towards his family and returned to the water, leaving Noctis to once more be crushed by hugs.

* * *

After they returned to Insomnia and Noct had been fully looked over by a plethora of doctors, he stood in front of his full length mirror tucked away in the safety of his bathroom and stared. He touched his neck and swallowed as the jagged scar the wound had healed into appeared in his reflection, thankful that the lessons taught by _ Seanaintín _–as Leviathan requested he call her–let him hide what had really happened. Speaking of those lessons, while they were still fresh in his mind, he allowed the rest of his body to change into whatever he willed it to be.

He lightened into Prompto, then grew into his father. Next, he changed into each of his brothers as he last saw them in that life, standing on the steps of the broken Citadel. Finally, he tested himself by changing into his mother. Long dark hair tangled around an emotionless face and deep purple eyes–that he now realized he had seen before, set in Shiva’s face–stared back at him from the mirror as his mother's visage melted away into his adult body and he placed a shaking hand on its surface.

He shuddered, shaking away bad memories–both old and new–as he slowly shrunk down into a boy his age with ash blond hair and stormy grey eyes (a proud mix of Galahdian and Niflheimr), and he knew no one would recognize him as the Crown Prince if he ever decided to run away. He took a deep breath, locking away the more troublesome feelings, and nodded at his normal reflection. Noct thought of his extended family in this new life and finally felt like he could smile again as he quoted Other!Iggy's favorite Tenebraen playwright: “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Noctis' tail:  

> 
> **EDIT 2/12/2020:** Fixed the picture thingamajig! Uh... I'll fix the image size for us mobile users later! (When I figure out how to do so... HTML help would be appreciated!)
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
> _Seanaintín_ \- Great Aunt


	5. Of Burdens Shared and A Father's Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a flashback is had and a certain someone overhears something he'd rather he didn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
> All right! Y'all might've read this in Bits and Bobs, which has been deleted (whoops) but it's been rewritten and beta'd and there's new stuff, so it's more of a new chapter really.
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Poorly Written Flashback
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, so if I missed something, drop a comment and I'll fix it.

Noct had no idea how Prompto talked him into this (especially after that stupid kidnapping–and Astral meeting–last week), but here they were, walking around the Citadel at o’dark thirty in the morning, like a couple of would be thieves.

“I heard some of the Crownsguards say the throne room is haunted? And, like, the ghosts only come out at night.” The blond told him and Noct turned to smirk at him.

“Wanna go and find out?”

“You’re on!” They zipped through the halls, barely containing their giggles as they headed to the first floor.

Five minutes later, they stopped in front of the entrance and traded impish grins. Noct step _ ped through the open door leading to the throne room, pausing to glance up and was relieved when he saw a clear ceiling, the rotting corpses that had previously hung from it gone from their chains. Letting his eyes trail back down to the chair that held fond (and not so fond) memories of his father he sighed, starting forward. _

N–t?  _ He ignored the whisper of a breeze as he climbed the stairs, taking it slow as snapshots of better days played through his mind and threatened to overwhelm him. He finally reached the top and shook away the nostalgia, placing a gentle hand on the throne’s armrest as he spoke to the lingering ghosts of the past. “I’m home. I walked tall. And though it took me a while, I’m ready now.” _

_ He gingerly sat down and winced in pain, belatedly realizing that Ardyn must have gotten a good few hits in. “I love you all. Luna, guys… Dad…” The Ring of Lucii lit up and a pale vision of his father appeared in the corner of his eye, with his back turned. “The time we had together… I cherish.” He tilted his head up and called for his ancestors. _ No–is?  _ The breeze swelled. _

_ “Kings of Lucis…” Somehow he knew that the Spirits of the ring had emerged in the sky above the Citadel and he snapped his head back to stare resolutely forward, steeling himself. “Come to me!” He flung his right hand out to the side, the Sword of the Father appearing in his outstretched palm and brought the blade down in front of him, burying it deep within the floor.  _

_ The Royal Arms, which had been a bitch and a half to collect, the one residing in Costlemark Tower particularly so, faded into reality and circled around him, the Kings rising from the ground behind the Arm that they had wielded in Life. One by one, they rose into the air, and one by one, each weapon impaled Noct’s chest, causing hands gripping the sword hilt to tighten, before the soul was sucked into the ring. With each Arm striking true, his grip weakened, and as the last King slammed home, his hand slipped completely off the blade and it clattered to the floor. _ Noc–is! 

_ Noct grit his teeth and forced his heavy breathing to calm. _ That... wasn’t a breeze?  _ He thought as he looked around and shook his head, no he had to _ focus.  _ The memories of his friends laughing before they entered Insomnia for the final time, of Luna smiling in Altissia before the tragic summoning of Leviathan, began to play in his head. _

_ He bent over even farther to pick up the sword with his off hand, and dragged it over to his father’s spirit. He whispered harshly, “Dad… Trust in me…” and felt the sword disappear from his hand. Light slipped through his closed lids and he straightened up, opening his eyes in time to see his father’s armored figure fly straight at him. _

“Noctis!”  _ There it was again and it sounded like... _

“Prom...pto?”  _ He flinched back as his father burst into smoke just as the phantom slammed into him and in its place was his best friend, looking very concerned as he knelt in front of him. _

“Are you okay, Noct?”  _ Prompto asked. _

“I–you–weren’t you outside fighting daemons with Gladio and Iggy?”  _ Noct was so confused, nothing was making any sense! But, as he watched the blond’s forehead wrinkle, he realized something was also so  _ very _ wrong. _

“Who’s Iggy?”  _ Prompto’s question shot through him and he blin _ ked open heavy eyelids. He sucked in a startled breath and his eyes darted around the untouched room. “And why would Gladio be outside? He’s, like, too tiny to do anything.” Noct slid down from his perch on the throne and stared at Prompto.

“What happened?”

“I dunno, you tell me! You turned blue and turned waaaaay older–with a beard and long hair and everything!–then walked up to the throne, sat and stared at the wall while mumbling something! And then blurry blue ghosts came up from the ground and started stabbing you!” Prompto started to cry.

“I--I...” He didn’t know what to say, should he…?

“Noct, you really scared me. What was that?” And then Prompto’s hurt chocobo chick eyes–which were a hundred times sadder than usual thanks to the tears running down his cheeks–made the decision for him.

“I kinda have… memories of a different life?” He tried and watched with startled amusement as Prom stopped crying and his eyes grew wide, practically shining with stars.

“Whaaaat? Who were you?” Prompto gasped, “Were you an ancient king?” Noct laughed, glad his best friend stopped crying at least.

“Kinda. I was me, but from another universe. One where we were younger than Gladio and Iggy, Ignis Sciencia; he was my advisor that was two years older than us, and you weren’t adopted by Cor and Mom wasn’t…” He trailed off.

“There?” was offered and he nodded sadly. By mutual decision they left the throne room and snuck their way back to their rooms. As soon as they tucked themselves back into bed, Noct began telling parts of his story, with Prompto commenting on random bits.

“We actually weren’t friends until high school, you know, though we did see each other in class often. You slapped me on the shoulder and introduced yourself, and then we were friends until the day I died.”

“Were you…?” Prompto trailed off, looking uncomfortable and Noct looked over to him.

“Prom?” When the blond didn’t continue, Noct nudged his shoulder with his own. “Was I… what?”

“Did you die in the throne room?” He blurted out and Noct reeled back in surprise. “Is that why you spaced out? You were reliving your death?” They stared at each other for a solid minute, before Noct broke and looked down at the blanket. He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder and he looked up into his best friend’s scared, but determined eyes. “I may be only eight, but you’re my best friend, Noct. Your burdens are mine, and vice versa, okay?”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a wedding vow?” He tried for a smile, but at the blond’s unwavering stare, Noct sighed and relented, “The Wall fell, Insomnia and her people with it. The sun hadn’t risen for ten years and those that survived were dying by the hundreds every day.” He swallowed, a tear making its way down his cheek. “And to bring back the dawn, I had to die.” 

“Noct…” Prompto wrapped thin arms around his shoulder and Noct felt terrible when he began to shake.  _ I shouldn’t have told him _ , he thought and he must have said that out loud because Prompto jerked back and glared at him. “Your burdens, my burdens. Remember?”

Noct gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry.” He jumped when his side got poked.

“You should be, you jerk.” Prompto sniffed, “Now tell me the whole story.” He demanded snootily and Noct acquiesced with a grimace.

He began with the treaty, how he was to marry Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret for peace and was then sent away to Altissia by his father, with only his Retinue to guard him. Breaking down on the road and meeting Cindy and her Paw-paw Cid, who was a part of ’Reggie’s’ retinue before they had a falling out. Getting back on the road and being told of the imperial embargo by a suspiciously helpful stranger at the docks of Galdin Quay, then waking up to the news that Insomnia fell to the Empire the night before. Meeting up with Cor, gathering the thirteen Royal Arms of Kings past and needing to gain the Astrals’ Covenants.

He told of losing the Regalia, all that was left of his dad, after meeting Titan and learning the mysterious stranger was none other than the Chancellor of Niflheim himself, Ardyn Izunia. Finding the old girl in a Niff base and re-meeting Ravus, Luna’s brother and General of the Niff army. Of Gladio’s secret mission and subsequent return after searching for a Mythril component so Cid could fix the Royal Vessel. 

He spoke of finally getting to Altissia, of meeting Lunafreya and defeating Leviathan to gain her favor, only to lose Luna to Ardyn’s dagger. Of Ignis going blind from wearing the Ring of the Lucii and then falling for an illusion made by Ardyn that made him kick Prompto from a speeding train. Being separated from Gladio and Iggy, having to navigate Zagnatus Keep by his lonesome, listening to Ardyn’s taunts over the intercom, Ardyn telling him that his family was never supposed to inherit the throne. Of finding Prompto and learning of his best friend’s origins. Of getting to the crystal and being sucked into it.

He whispered of awakening from the crystal to find ten years had passed and his friends had grown apart in his absence. That last night camping and laughing like it was just another night on their road trip to Altissia. Entering the ruins of Insomnia to reclaim the throne–and the dawn–from his Immortal Grand Uncle. Fighting him throughout the city and, upon defeat, walking to his death. Leaving his friends to die and being left in return. Being stabbed thirteen times, the last by his father, and erasing the Scourge from Ardyn. Of finally succumbing to death himself and meeting all his family in the great beyond, only to be asked to do it all over again. And  _ agreeing _ .

Mouth dry from talking so long, he waited for Prompto’s judgement. “Sounds like your old life sucked.” Prompto finally offered and shocked Noct into wet giggles.

“Parts of it did yeah, the end most definitely, but there were some… bright spots along the way.” He smiled as those spots spun through his mind. Prompto was silent for a bit too long and turned to find the blond staring at him thoughtfully.

“You always reminded me of Dad, sometimes, when he talked about the adventures he had with Uncle Regis. Guess now I know why.” He shrugged, then smiled helplessly. “You’re a strong person, Noct. To do it all over again, I don’t think that I could’ve done the same.” The tears came back stronger, and Noct threw himself at his best friend in the whole wide world and cried into his shoulder as they laid there on the bed.

After fifteen minutes, the tears finally abated and Noct fought the urge to sleep, as one does after letting too many years of pent up emotions go, but his eyes shot open as Prompto’s hesitant voice hit his ears.

“The other me was from Niflheim too, right?”

He really wanted sleep, but his best friend’s needs came before his own. “Yeah, what of it?”

“Did–did he also have a barcode?” And Noct finally knew where this was coming from. He sat up, dragging the blond with him.

“Nope, nuh-huh, no way, that is a negative ghost rider. I did not tolerate that bul–ahem– _ nonsense _ with him and I sure as heck ain’t gonna accept it from you either, so you better listen here, buddy, and listen closely.” Noct jabbed a finger in his best friend’s face, and tried not to giggle at blue eyes going cross-eyed because,  _ serious conversation here _ .

“You have never cared about where other people come from, and I know this for a fact, because you have never–not once in  _ either  _ of your lives–treated me like a prince. So why should you treat yourself any differently?” Prompto blinked like that idea had never occurred to him. Hell no, Prompto was not going to pick up a complex. Not on his watch!

“Where, when, why or even how you were born shouldn’t matter to anyone. What  _ should _ matter is what you do with that life given, okay?” Noct offered a pinkie out to him–remembering a secret handshake another blond in another timeline created that he himself had deemed too childish to use–and smiled.

“Okay.” Prompto returned the smile and hooked his pinkie around the proffered one.

“But hey, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. Your burdens, my burdens right?” Prompto agreed with a sleepy giggle, before they finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the night’s adventure.

* * *

Regis closed his son’s door quietly–mindful of those slumbering within–and sighed as his head rested against the wood, thoughts swirling around his head like one of the Fulgarian’s storms. When Aulea woke him up with an order to check on their eldest because she had one of her  _ feelings _ , he had hoped it wasn’t going to be another episode like the first one.  _ No _ , he thought morosely as he walked farther into the unused portion of the Royal Wing,  _ what I found was  _ so much _ worse. _

Noctis, his eight-year-old son who has already been through _so much_, had been caught in another flashback so strong it activated the Crystal’s magic, and Regis had been forcibly rooted to the floor by that magic as twelve of their Ancestors arose–one by one–and flew at his son with the intent to maim. He was made to watch, as weapon after weapon was _driven_ _through_ the man his baby had become and–with each Ancestor and Royal Arm dissipating–Noctis grew weaker and weaker until he slumped over, the sword he had driven into the ground–a _familiar_ sword that Regis had just now noticed–falling with a clatter. Then Noctis had gathered what little remained of his strength to drag the sword, _Regis’s sword_, over to another ghost–to _him!_ That was _him!_ That was _his hand _holding _his sword_, about to pierce–about to _kill_–

Regis slapped a hand over his mouth and slammed his eyes shut, trying to forget the image of his ghostly self bearing down on Noctis with his blade drawn, to forget the emotions that surged from the Parent-Child bond. The pain of leaving his friends alone, sadness over not being able to see the sun one last time.  _ Relief that it was finally over _ –Regis couldn't handle it, and he stumbled over to a wall and slid down, collapsing on the floor as tears spilled from unseeing eyes.

Frantic footsteps echoed faintly through the shadows, though Regis didn’t pay them, nor the familiar bonds–Clarus. Heather. Cor. _Aulea_–any heed. He could only watch–with his mind filling in the gaps present in the actual memory–as he killed his tiny son over and over and _over_ _again_.

“Regis?” A gasp. “Regis! What happened?!” Aulea demanded as she shook him, though he couldn’t answer, stuck as he was watching what had to be his worst nightmare on endless repeat. He could still hear the words spoken over his head quite well, however.

“Lights are on, but it looks like nobody’s home.” A small breeze caressed his face. Clarus must’ve waved a hand in front of it, to check his reaction. “Cor, did you feel anybody else nearby? You’re better at sensing these things then I am at the moment.”

Cor snorted in grim amusement, “All the time, you mean. But no, the only recent signatures I feel are us five and the kids, who I believe were checking out the Throne Room for ghosts before actually heading off to dreamland.”

“Then Aulea, do you know what could have happened, to put him in this state?” Heather asked and Regis felt Aulea shake her head.

“No, I sent him ta check on Noctis earlier because of a feelin’ I had, but both he an’ Prompto are fine, they’ve passed out on the bed, curled aroun’ each other. I ken find out, though.” She said as she touched her forehead to his.

_ Sorry Reggie. I know ya love ya privacy and– _

_No no no! Don’t let her, can’t let her see! Stop Lea, please_ _don’t, no you don't want to see this!_ Regis begged as he struggled to pull those memories behind a shield but a light touch from his love’s mental fingers had his miserable attempt crumbling to ash.

_ It’s alright,  _ mo chuisle _ , whatever ya’ve seen, we’ll get through it together. Just like we promised in our Vows.  _ The memory of those vows, of when they had danced slowly before the Crystal's Might–to prove both their devotion to each other and her willingness to take on the burden of its magic–played through their combined mind. It almost masked what she was about to do, but he saw through it and tried again to build another barrier. However, the more Regis struggled, the more Aulea was determined to see what happened, and soon she shattered the wall he had tried to erect.

_Noooo…_ he moaned as she _watched_ through his eyes as their eldest–grown and weathered by stress–was _stabbed_ repeatedly by long dead Lucis Caelums; _heard_ through his ears as Noctis explained what _the_ _hell_ had just happened to a silent Prompto; _felt_ through his bond as Noctis' words _rang_ without a hint of dishonesty.

_ No. No no no nonononono! My baby, my baby! Please not my baby! _ Aulea wailed over their bond as she began to shake, both in mind and body.

Having had his head knocked on straight by her metal presence, Regis gathered his wife up into his arms as she broke down sobbing.

“What the hell is going on, Regis?” His oldest friend demanded and he could only shake his head as Aulea cried harder.

“Noctis,” She sobbed into his shoulder. “My baby, my poor baby…”

Heather's eyes narrowed, “Did something happen to Noctis?”

Regis opened and closed his mouth a few times before deciding that this conversation could wait until Noctis told them himself. He shook his had and said as much out loud; the others grumbling but otherwise relenting when Regis repeated that it was Noctis' story to tell, and he refused to invade his son's privacy any more than he already had.

_ **\---** _

Later, when everyone was tucked away into bed, Regis thought back to what young Prompto had said to Noctis and had to agree. “A stronger person than most, indeed,” he murmured as he held his wife close and closed his eyes, hoping against everything that he wouldn't have a nightmare tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _mo chuisle_ \- my pluse


	6. Of Niflheim and Kingsglaives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis wonders about other people's perspectives and gives his dad an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so, I have _no idea_ where this came from, but here! Have an emotional trainwreak disguised as a chapter.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** beta'd by notesoftruth and fiddled with by moi
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> I don't think there's any? Tell me if I'm wrong though.

Noct was sitting on the couch in his Dad’s office a few days after his unfortunate experience in the throne room when the news came in: the Empire had annexed another part of Tenebrae and was continuing it’s political march on towards Lucis. He bit his lip and kept his worrying quiet as Dad sighed, head falling forward to be cradled in his hands. Noct hadn’t been born when this happened in the other timeline, so he only saw what the end result had done to his family and he definitely did not want what had happened to happen again.

Maybe he could… take some of Dad's burdens? Show that he was smarter than the average child? Although–now that he thought about it–his parents  _ probably _ realized that already because he  _ really _ wasn’t that good at dumbing himself down to his supposed age’s vocabulary (or maturity) level. Actually, he was sure of it, because they'd been noticeably hovering since  _ Seanaintín _ brought him back to the surface and there was no way they could have missed it. Whoops.

Quietly, he placed the book he was reading down on the couch and honestly, he kinda understood why Other!Gladio read so much now. It was nice to get lost in the pages of a good fantasy or sci-fi novel, to ignore the real world for just a little while.

Jumping off the couch, he crept around the desk and snuck under it, coming out in between sturdy legs to give Dad a hug around his middle. He blinked out from wherever his mind had wandered off to, looking down at Noct with surprise in his eyes. “What’s this for then, hmm?” Dad asked as he lifted Noct into a very comfortable lap.

“Thought you could use a hug.” Noct shrugged, leaning his head against the broad chest next to him and letting the heartbeat soothe his troubled thoughts. Sleep tugged at his eyelids and he almost let the feeling carry him away. However, before he could, the door to the office slammed open and he jerked awake with adrenaline flooding his veins.

“Oops.” Mom’s voice cut through the hazy thoughts ( _ where did that gunshot come from? _ ) and he calmed down enough to register Dad’s hand rubbing soothing circles across his back. “Sorry about that,  _ mo stór _ .” Noct grunted and turned to bury his head into Dad’s chest, letting the solid heartbeat there set a pace his own could match.

“Was there a reason you swept in here like a hurricane, Aulea? Or was the near heart attack you gave our eldest your goal?” The rumbling of Dad’s voice deep in his chest brought him back to reality and he chanced a peek out of the corner of his eye. The apologetic look on Mom’s face and curious eyes of Ari let him relax further, and so he twisted around to face her.

“The reason I swept in here, as ya so kindly put it, was because our youngest finally decided to stop following in her brother’s footsteps an’ is close ta sayin’ her first word an' I thought that ya might like ta hear it.” She sniffed, but then looked guiltily in his direction. “However, I will apologize ta ya again,  _ mo leanbh _ , for slammin’ the door and' startlin’ ya.” Mom curtsied the best she could in jeans and while holding a 16 month old. She looked so ridiculous that he let himself giggle at the over-exaggerated-ness.

“It’s fine, Mom. I know you were excited. And now, so’m I!” He hopped off Dad’s lap, ignoring his breath of laughter, and ran over to stare at his younger sister. “Do you know what she was trying to say?” He made grabby hands at them and Mom gently dropped Ari into his waiting arms.

“I dunno, but I hope it’s Mommy. Especially since I carried her aroun’ for 9 months. An’ puked my guts out for three of them. An’ ate nasty food combinations. Oh, an’–”

“I think he gets it, dear heart.” Dad huffed, obviously still a teensy bit mad, but–more importantly–interrupting before Mom could get  _ really _ descriptive and Noct thanked him for it. Then, he realized that this would be the  _ perfect _ opportunity to ask a question he had been dying to ask for years.

“What was my first word?” He pulled his eyes away from the face Ari was making and blinked, first at the face Dad pulled, then at Mom trying to stifle her laughter by biting on a knuckle. “What? What’d I say?” He whined, because inquiring minds really wanted to know what the story was behind those reactions!

Apparently, that was all that was needed for Mom’s restraint to snap and he was pretty sure she was going to break something, laughing that hard. “He’s just mad that ya first word, well sentence really, was all Clarus’ fault.” She smacked Dad’s shoulder and smiled wider. “Just remember  _ mo chuisle _ , ya can pay him back via Gladiolus.” Noct had to bite his lip because–the malicious expression that had just broken over Dad’s face? Truly terrifying and he felt bad for his uncle.

“Anyway, ya were three years old, and a late bloomer to boot, at least about this particular thin’, an’ I honestly don’t know  _ what _ that man was thinkin’, but Clarus decided ‘twas the perfect time ta just start casually swearin’ aroun’ ya an’ ya just soaked up those words, like a sponge! We know this, ’cause ya chose ta show off ya unheard of speakin’ abilities in front of the Tenebraen delegation–an’ let me tell ya, I have never seen ya father more angry with his older brother in all my time of knowin’ the two knuckleheads. ’Twas  _ great _ .”

Dad growled at the old memory, “Clarus was just lucky that Sylva _also_ thought it was hilarious, or I would have had to find a new Shield because the old one would have disappeared _under_ _mysterious circumstances_.”

“Oh, come off it, Reggie, ya foun’ it just as amusin’ as we did! I saw ya laughin’ after ya sent Clarus runnin’ away with his tail tucked in between his legs.”

“Yes, but  _ he _ doesn’t know that. He still thinks that I’m mad at him for that stunt.”

Noct watched his parents laugh and wondered why people thought the Royal Family was respectable, when really, they just were a bunch of fucking  _ trolls _ . Excluding maybe old gruncle Somnus in his older years. Which reminded him that he  _ still _ hasn’t looked up how his ancestry differed from his original timeline, besides the fact that Ardyn ascended the throne instead of his younger brother. Oh, and also married an Oracle, can't forget that one.

He was knocked from his thoughts by Ari trying her best to squirm out of his hold. “Whoa! I don’t think she likes being ignored.”

“No’t-is.” Did she just…? “No’t-is!” Guess she did, and Ari squealed as he held her up, bringing them face to face. “No’t-is! No’t-is! No’t-is!”

“Awww!” Noct flinched at the high pitch squeal Mom let loose, plucking Ari from his arms. Dad jokingly wiggled a pinky finger in the ear canal closest to her. “I saw that Reggie, but I’m goin’ ta forget ya did it ’cause there are more important things goin’ on here.” Mom swung Ari around in a circle. “Like her first word! Noctis, oh how adorable! Gods, I have ta go call Heather!” With nary a goodbye, Mom left the two of them standing there like the idiots they were while she tore out the door. There was silence for a good five seconds before Noct decided to break it with a giggle.

“Hurricane Aulea has left the area. It is now safe to go about your scheduled business.” That had Dad snorting inelegantly.

“Don’t let her hear you call her that.” He cautioned (and Noct smelt another story behind that particular warning) with a smile. “However, I do think you're right. And I  _ also _ think that we won't be seeing her for quite some time.” Dad shuffled back to his chair and sat down, staring down at the reports scattered on his desk. And he kept staring until he just groaned and slumped down into a slouch with an arm covering his eyes, looking for all the world like an aging supermodel down on his luck. The imagery that sentence brought to mind had him biting his lip again as he slipped his phone out to take a picture. This moment had to be preserved–for science of course.

“Are… are you okay, Dad?” He asked after he put it away.

“I’m fine, Noct, especially since I’m ignoring the fact that you now have more blackmail material on me.” Dad mumbled out from under his arm. “I just have a problem that I need solved and, no matter how I look at it, it seems impossible.”

“Well, I’ve been told I make a decent sounding board.” Noct offered and felt a bit better when Dad smiled as he sat up and stretched, back making a sound not unlike popping popcorn. He was beckond over with a wave and was once again seated on Dad’s lap. “What’s up?”

“As you know, Niflheim is howling at our doors once more. The problem that I'm having is that we do not have the numbers necessary to bolster our forces in order to defend ourselves against that rising tide. I am... hesitant to call for a draft as some of the councillors have been suggesting, but...” Dad gestured glumly to the papers scattered over the desk’s surface. He sighed heavily and rested his chin on Noct’s head. “Maybe a fresh pair of eyes can see a path where I could not. Do you know of anything else that we can do?”

Noct looked over the papers and nibbled on his poor abused lip. He may not understand any of the numbers or figures written on them (he had really come to regret not paying any real attention to Iggy’s lectures by this point) but then he remembered some things learned over the course of the road trip, as well as from meeting the people who had come together to combat the Long Night.

He knew what a lot of people would do to protect the things precious to them, especially when given a chance. “How about volunteers?”

“Volunteers?” Dad echoed, then shook his head with a sigh. “We have no guarantee that the people of Insomnia–” Noct interrupted with a giddy smile, an idea swiftly unfurling within his mind.

“Not just Insomnia, Dad.” He hopped off Dad's lap and ran to the shelves that held reference material, pulling out a giant map of Eos. He dropped it on the desk, scrambled back up into Dad's lap and pointed to Niflheim after unrolling the stupid thing. “The Empire is bullying everyone, not just the Crown City.

“A lot of people would give everything to protect what they care about and I think we should give them that chance. We could ask the people beyond the Wall, maybe even from other kingdoms. Maybe we could offer something in return…?” He trailed off as he stared up at Dad's face and wondered at the look of melancholic pride. “Dad?”

His arms wrapped around Noct again and he stared off into nothing. “Wisdom comes alone through suffering.” He sounded like he was quoting someone as his face twisted into something Noct couldn't put a name to.

“Dad?” He repeated, not liking his dad being so lost in his head.

Dad shook his head and looked down at him, his expression softening into a sad smile. “It is nothing, Noctis. I just do not know whether I should be proud of your great maturity or mourn your former innocence when you yourself seem to be so at peace with letting your childhood pass you by.” Noct watched in dismay as his father's eyes went misty.

“Other children your age are only just learning their numbers and letters and yet here you are, helping me with  _ battle plans _ .” A huff of despondent laughter escaped him, along with a few stray tears and Noct had honestly no idea how he was going to fix this. He thought of his previous life–of what he wished he could have told that version of Regis Lucis Caelum–and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

The best place to start is a hug, he thinks and wraps thin arms around Dad's neck to hang there like a limpet, trying to absorb any bad stuff Dad felt until he was hugged back just as tightly. He felt the quiet sobs slowing to a stop and let go, waiting until Dad looked at him and smiled as he quoted something an old tutor once told him, many years ago–in his first life. “‘I am Noctis Lucis Caelum, the Crown Prince of Lucis. That means, no matter how hard my parents–or even I–wish it so, I am unable to act like those below my station. I must hold myself to a higher standard than those twice my age as well as with the integrity of those even older.’”

Noct had to stop, because he could feel his own tears welling up. “Dad, you and Mom… you gave me a chance to be a kid and I thank you for it. But eventually, I’m going to have to step up regarding my duties and I figure it might be better to do so sooner rather than later.” 

Dad blinked away a few final tears and, gently placing Noct on the floor, he knelt down so they were face to face. “Noctis,” he began, gripping him by the shoulders. “The duties of the Crown Prince are a difficult obligation, and even your grandfather Mors–Astrals rest his soul–didn’t let me shoulder a  _ fraction _ of them until I was well into my teenage years. So please, and I ask this as your King as well as your father, take your time to be a child. I will not give up this crown so easily until I know that you are ready, and probably not even then. Not when I can bear this responsibility so you don’t have to.

“Besides,” Dad broke the solemn air with a sudden grin and a chuck under the chin. “I’m pretty sure I can out stubborn you, little Nightlight, so don’t even try.” Noct giggled at the silly nickname, but double checked, just to be certain.

“Really?”

“Really really.” Dad chuckled and continued. “Go. Laugh at something funny, learn something new!  _ Be a child _ , before you must take upon yourself a burden much too heavy for you to currently bear.” He stood back up and stretched again, this time looking pleasantly surprised. “Mm, whoever said crying is good for the soul was certainly onto something, I haven’t felt this energetic in a good five years! We might have to have more of these heart-to-hearts in the future if this is where it gets me.” Noct shrugged, not feeling anything  _ remotely _ like what Dad just described. Instead, all he felt was the need to eat a very large meal followed by a very long nap.

Speaking of which, he yawned.  _ Loudly _ . Then his stomach protested just as strongly and Dad looked up at the noise, startled, then laughed. Dad started shuffling papers around, shifting them into neat little piles and, once he was done, swooped in to snatch his groggy self up into strong arms. “I'll tell the counsel of your idea tomorrow. For now, let’s go raid the kitchen and settle you down for a nap, Nightlight.”

_ **\---** _

The very next day, Dad proposed their idea for what he called the Kingsglaive, a volunteer-only group that functioned much like the Crownsguard, only on a more global scale. It was open for anyone–after being vetted by a few tests, of course–over their cultural age of majority and was going to be able to clear routes thought inaccessible ever since the Wall was scaled back to Insomnia.

* * *

_ Dad said to give himself time before taking on his duties, to go and be a child. The problem was, Noct didn’t know how to be one. He hadn’t been a child since... since his dad died and Insomnia fell. Since Luna was killed and Iggy was blinded. Since he pushed his best friend off a speeding train and his Crownsguard, his Kingsglaives, his _ brothers _ left him to face death alone. _

_ This new universe, this new chance... it was a blessing, don’t get him wrong, but he was scared. He was so scared that he was going to wake up and all this, it was going to be a dream. A dream from which he would eventually awaken, stumbling away from the Crystal with Bahamut’s prophecy ringing in his ears, having to go through his death–his  _ sacrifice _ –again, because the first time wasn't enough. _

_ So no, he wasn’t the child Dad asked him to be.  _ But, maybe _ … Noct watched as his parents played with Ari, smiling when his sister made grabby hands in his direction.  _ Maybe he could pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _mo stór_ \- my treasure  
_mo leanbh_ \- my child  
_mo chuisle_ \- my pulse


	7. Of Lessons Learned and Decisions Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis may have taken his dad's advice a bit too seriously and some family history is unearthed, probably thanks to some such nonsense like Chosen King Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I think is a little choppy but I have stared at it long enough already so you go enjoy your new chapter while I go hack up a lung.
> 
> Excuse me.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** beta'd by notesoftruth and fiddled with by moi
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Nada

First step of pretending to be a child: Take Dad's advice and learn some new stuff, which was why he was stalking Mom as she made her rounds throughout the Citadel, after Ari was put down for an afternoon nap. Noct felt like she knew he was there but she was humoring him because she thought it was cute and–yup, she knew. She just glanced in his direction and giggled. “Moooooooom….” He whined, crossing his arms and pouting when her continued giggles had the surrounding staff laughing as well. “You could’ve acted like you didn’t see me.”

“Aww,  _ mo stór _ I can’t help it, especially when ya act so cute! ” Mom swooped in and wrapped him in a hug, swinging him back and forth as she did so. Thankfully, she stopped before he could get nauseous and hiked him up on her hip. “Though, I do have ta wonder why ya were stalkin’ me.” She booped his nose and laughed again when he wrinkled it.

And the moment of truth cometh. “Dad said something about learning new things a couple of days ago so I was wondering if you could teach me the language you’re always speaking?” He really hoped she said yes because her accent was amazing and unique and he loved it. Then Mom’s eyes begin to sparkle and Noct slapped his hands over his ears before–

“AHHH,  _ MO LEANBH _ WANTS TA LEARN FROM ME!”

–she squealed into them and twirled him around again. Joy. Also,  _ owwww...  _ why does she always have to be  _ so loud _ when she's excited? Knowing that she wasn’t going to do it again, he uncovered his ears and glared at her. He didn’t stop until she kissed his forehead in apology, and even then he grumbled at her. “Sorry, I’m just so happy that ya want ta learn how ta speak Gaeilge!”

“Is that what it’s called, Gaeilge?” She put him down and Noct blinked up at her. He was pretty

sure he saw actual stars in her eyes and here he thought that shit only happened in cartoons. She knelt down in front of him and booped him on the nose again, making him go cross-eyed.

“’Tis indeed  _ mo leanbh _ . Gaeilge has been spoken by our family for many a generation an’ now it seems ta be your turn. Actually,” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “I think I have an ol’ primer your Grandda made for me. I’ll have ta dig it out though.” She stood up and held out a hand, “C’mon, Noctis. Help me out with this last roun’ an’ then we can go diggin’ about my ol’ things.”

“Sure!” He chirped, taking the offered hand and they started down the hallway. As they finished up, they got caught up on the wholesome group gossip going around the staff. Who was getting married, who was adopting (either human or animal), who was having a baby, who was on the verge of flinging their significant other out of the house due to hovering  _ because _ of that baby. You know, that sort of thing.

10 minutes later, they said goodbye to the staff and headed towards the Royal Wing. “Ya ken always tell us anythin’ about thin’s that bother ya, ya know that, right?” Mom asked as they walked through a deserted corridor.

Noct looked up into her eyes, so filled with concern, and he knew that his parents thought that his new sour mood was because of his kidnapping (and maybe they’re partially right), but he didn’t want to burden any of his family with his problems, so he just smiled at her and said, “I’m not ready yet, Mom. Maybe someday, though.”

She sighed and Noct felt bad, but held firm in his decision of not telling them anything, “Alright,  _ mo stór _ , if ya sure.” She returned his smile and then suddenly they were having a race to see who would reach the Royal Wing first, with Mom winning by a small margin. “Haha! I win, now I get ta collect my prize!” She cried as she began tickling him to laughter.

“Ma-ah-ham! Sta-aahp iiiiiit!” He shrieked and giggled as tears of mirth streamed down his face. He spotted Dad as he snuck in through the open door, finger held to his lips as he crept closer.

“I’ll save you, Nightlight!” Mom practically jumped as Dad hoisted her up by her waist and twirled her around as if they were on a dance floor.

“Regis, let me go!” She laughed as she slapped him lightly on the chest.

“And if I say no?” He winked and she giggled.

“Well, I’m sure I could find a way ta persuade ya...” She trailed off as they leaned in closer to each other, and as much as Noct enjoyed watching his parents be mushy together, there had to be lines drawn somewhere.

He, faking a child’s curiosity, asked, “What are you two doing?” and he could see the  _ exact _ moment that they remembered they had a small child in the room with them and had to hold back a giggle as they sprang apart.

Unfortunately, Dad must have heard it because he bought out the big guns: “Well Noctis, when a Mommy and a Daddy love each other very much...” He began and Noct  _ would not  _ have it. He remembered this speech  _ twice _ over now (once when Heather was pregnant with Iris in his first life, then in this life when Mom was first showing and Dad bungled his way through it while Mom and Noct laughed), so he slaps his hands over his ears and glares all the while to his parents’ great amusement.

“I hate you.” He grumbles as he turns away to pout.

“No you/ya don’t!” Mom and Dad sang in tandem as they each poked a side of his ribs, making him shriek again.

“I don’t! I don’t! I’m sorry, just please stop tickling me!” He practically begged as he curled into a ball to hopefully prevent future attacks.

“Oh, very well...” Mom sighed, looking despondent. “If only ’cause ya apologized.”

“Mooooooooooom…”

“I wonder if we can still get away with nap time, at his age.”

_ Really, dad?! Ewwwwwww… Brain bleach, I need brain bleach! _ “Dad!”

* * *

Step Two was to hang out with kids his age. And since the only kid he knew was Prompto...

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Noct eyed the jury rig of feathers, honey and flour with trepidation.

“It’ll be fine!” Prompto waved away his concerns as he tightened a tripwire.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

A strangled noise crawled its way up his throat as  _ way _ more people than was usual for this time of day got caught up in their shenanigans and he traded a panicked look with his best friend.

Shit.

Noct grabbed Prompto’s hand and whispered, “Run.” Thus began their merry chase throughout the Citadel corridors, dodging people as they scampered.

“AFTER THOSE LITTLE HELLIONS!” Shouts and shrieks followed in their wake as Noct and Prompto kept running, trying to get away from the very pissed off kitchen staff while the ordinary staff leapt to the sides to avoid being bowled over. “DON’T LET THEM GET AWAY!” Okay, so they maybe got a little carried away with this one, but to be fair, they hadn’t expected the amount of people that had gotten caught up in this.

They almost made it home free when–from out of  _ nowhere _ –calloused hands snagged their collars, forcing them to a stop. Shit, it was Uncle Cor and he looked… annoyed? No, wait. Noct recognized that look, that was his uncle’s ‘trying really hard to be stern, but is secretly amused’ face he usually wore when Dad was at his trolling finest around the more traditional-minded council members. “What are you two up to, now?”

Noct gulped, scrambling to find an answer that wouldn't incriminate them, but unfortunately, the staff had finally caught up. “There you are, you little–Oh, Marshall! I didn’t see you there.” A staff member simpered and Noct had to bite back a giggle as Prompto rolled his eyes so hard he almost fell over. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time someone tried to flirt with the famous Immortal in front of his kid. Thankfully an older woman Noct recognized as the no-nonsense Head of Staff came around to smack the man’s head and waved him away while dismissing the others to go and get cleaned up.

“Hello, Audrey.” Uncle Cor quirked his lips into a slight smile and gestured to the feathers floating in the air. “Are the boys in some kind of trouble with the kitchens?”

“Indeed. They managed to prank the kitchen, though I don’t think they realized that we were going to be training new staff right then.” Audrey blew a lock of greying hair away from green eyes and plucked a yellow feather from her honey and flour smeared uniform. “However, I must admit it was an ingenious set up, regardless of poor timing.”

“Does this mean we won’t get punished?” Prompto tried to pull off the infamous ‘baby chocobo’ look but Cor must have become immune if the deadpan expression on his uncle's face was anything to go by.

“Nice try, cub.” Cor turned to Audrey and bowed his head in apology. “Prompto will be by later to help clean up, won’t you, Prompto?” The blond nodded miserably and then it was Noct’s turn to be pinned with a sharp look. “As for you, your Highness, we’re going to have a talk with their Majesties.”

Fuck.

_ **\---** _

He could almost hear a funeral dirge playing as he was dragged–almost quite literally–to the throne room, which thankfully wasn’t in full council at the moment, or he  _ never _ would've heard the end of it.

“Your Majesties.” Marshall Leonis bowed.

“Greetings, Marshal.” His Majesty King Regis tilted his head in return. “To what do we owe the honor of this early visit? Though, I presume it has something to do with our wayward son that you have brought before us.”

“Indeed, your Majesty.” Cor was having  _ way _ too much fun with this, Noct could tell by his twitching lips that he was barely holding back a laugh. “I found your son, as well as mine, being chased by an angry mob.”

“Oh?” Her Majesty Queen Aulea raised a brow, although her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed laughter. “Tell me Marshall, what did our children do to deserve being chased as you just described?”

“They had decided to prank the kitchens while the new staff was being trained, though presumably they did not know of this training.” Cor resolutely ignored his puppy dog eye attempt as he continued his report. “Said prank involving–and I _do_ _not_ know how they managed it–enough feathers, flour and honey to cover a little over 40 people. I have yet to see the scene myself, but they don’t seem to be enjoying themselves.”

Their majesties finally melted away into his parents as a snort escaped both of them. “Noctis, how did you even...” Dad trailed off as he visibly tried to think of how that happened.

Noct shrugged because honestly, he was curious too. “I just raided our honey and flour stores, Prom was the one who found all the feathers and made the thingamajig that exploded everything all over people.”

Uncle Cor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “He always  _ was _ good with machinery.”

“Well,  _ mo leanbh _ , I applaud ya for ya first actual prank, but ’cause ya got caught, we’ll have ta punish ya.” Mom smirked and–wait that implied that if they didn’t get caught in the act, they wouldn’t have been punished.  _ What. _ She turned to Dad with a raised eyebrow, “Three months punishment, ya think?”  _ WHAT? _

Dad raised an eyebrow at her, “Dear heart…”

“Yes,  _ mo chuisle _ ?” She smiled sweetly.

“No need to scare him into not trying again.” Dad_ agreed _with this_?_ _Man_ did having Mom really change things up around here... “A single month should suffice. But what should it be? Besides helping clean up the mess they most likely left behind, of course.”

“I’ve already sent Prompto down to the scene of the crime, and with Audrey there, it should be done relatively soon.” Cor shook his head, then oh so helpfully suggested, “How about Noct helps around the kitchens, instead.”

Dad beamed. “What a  _ splendid _ idea, little brother.” He turned to Noct and that smile turned downright  _ evil. _ Noct whimpered in (mostly) exaggerated fear.

So ended Noctis Lucis Caelum, 113th Heir to the Throne of Lucis. Or his free time, at least.

* * *

He began the first day of his punishment for the Feathered Fiasco–as his parents so... _lovingly_ called it–by washing dishes. And truly, he was grateful that he wasn’t the only one doing so because there was. A lot. Of dishes. Which, to be fair, there were _a lot_ of people who worked in the Citadel but Noct never really knew _how_ _many_ until he had to clean up after them all.

It was hard work, especially since he had to be careful as every second dish he broke daily (the first one being a freebie) was another day added to his sentence. However, by the second week he was washing dishes like a pro  _ and _ he made friends with most of the kitchen staff–or at least the ones who had the good humor to laugh at being caught in a prank. Incidentally, Eros, the guy who had flirted with Uncle Cor, was one of them. He was kinda cool–when he wasn’t panting after uninterested Immortals–and he was an immigrant from Cavaugh so he had some interesting stories to tell during breaks and lunch time.

(One of those stories was about a guy Eros knew growing up, who supposedly fought and killed an adolescent coeurl. Noct had to raise a disbelieving eyebrow at that one, because while it plausible to fight a giant lightning cat and not get injured as an  _ armed adult _ , it would be  _ nearly _ impossible for a kid could do the same barehanded and walk away without a scratch–if they even  _ really _ fought one to begin with.)

Eros wasn’t the only storyteller among them, however, so Noct spent the first half of his original punishment–alright, so he may or may not have broken a total of 25 dishes (look, it was an accident. That drying rack came outta nowhere, okay?) during his stint as a dishwasher–listening to stories and myths of differing nations.

(Like the myth of how Eos once had ten suns before an ancient Emperor ordered a mighty hero–and an amazing archer–to shoot nine of them down. Kinda made him want to learn archery… He imagined shooting MTs down with a well placed arrow and, well, maybe the armoury had one laying around gathering dust somewhere.)

Time passed by relatively quickly, with Noct moving up from dishwasher to sous chef to mini chef (that was only allowed to cook with an adult present, which–fair enough). He learned to curl his fingers inward when chopping something (less chance to lose a finger), a quick way to dice an onion (bisect starting at root, cut slices horizontally from root to tip and then vertically from tip), how to accurately measure something just by eyeballing it (that was a fun lesson), and–most importantly–always, always,  _ always _ have your ingredients ready before you start cooking (cuts down on the possibility of burning down the kitchen while you frantically chop something).

He also managed to get some special regional dishes down pat, including a recipe for Galahdian skewers that were spicy as hell–heh, pun not intended but appreciated all the same–but also _ really fucking good _ (not that he could go without downing a full glass of milk for each skewer eaten–which would soon change, so help him Grandad Ifrit, he was not going to get  _ giggled at again _ ).

And even after his almost two month long KP duty had ended–and if he couldn’t be found in his usual hiding spots–he was there, helping out with food preparation or filling in for one of the dishwashers. All because the kitchen staff had evidently decided they liked him and therefore took him under their collective wing. He had begun his journey into the wonderful world of cooking and–whenever the food he made put a smile on someone’s face–he felt  _ that _ much closer to his much missed advisor and Hand.

* * *

With his thirst for knowledge having truly been awakened (Ignis would have been proud–and probably looking for pod people), Noct found himself wondering what to learn next. The choice was taken from him when he was passing the Infirmary one morning–bored out of his skull because Prompto was hanging with his recently returned dad–and heard pained screams and shouts for someone to prep the operating room.

He poked his head through the doorway and recoiled as the scent of charred flesh and burnt cloth brought back unpleasant memories of near (or permanent–thank the astrals for Phoenix Downs) deaths via Red Giants on the road to Altissa and beyond. Choking back bile as he shook the past away, Noctis watched as a gurney bearing a–uh… the word  _ crispy _ came to mind–young man in the remains of a Kingsglaive uniform was carted away.

“What the hell happened?!” A snooty medic (one Noct recalled being particularly Xenophobic) demanded from a group of nearby Glaives, presumably the ones that brought the injured guy in.

A blonde woman in her thirties with Niflheim features and accent stood at attention and saluted. “A training accident, sir.” She reported curtly.

"A training accident doesn't leave a man with second, third, even fourth degree burns, soldier." The medic glared and the Glaive glared right back.

“It does when the idiot in question doesn't follow orders and warps into an incoming Flare Spell.” She stared the medic down before adding a clipped  _ sir _ as an afterthought. Noct shuddered at the imagery that sentence brought to mind and the movement must’ve caught the attention of one of the Glaives, because she swore under her breath and nudged her neighbor.

“Shit. It’s the Prince, what should we do?” The whispered question brought attention to Noct, who swallowed back a retort because he really didn’t want that to happen, thanks.

The medic–Lousy Asshole Medical Eyesore, Noct whimsically decided–did a complete one-eighty in attitude and bent at the waist to stare at him, “Why hello there, your Highness.” The dick’s majorly condescending tone had him gritting his teeth. “How come you’re all the way out here?”

Noct chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating whether to answer the question sarcastically or not.  _ Diplomacy, Noctis. You’re a prince, be a good example. _ “I, um, heard the screams,” is what he decided on. He looked down and then up through his eyelashes. Hopefully, he was the picture of childhood innocence. “Is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Aww, we have all the help we need, but thank you for asking.” LAME all but cooed at his question and Noct twitched, tasting blood on his tongue from having bitten straight through his cheek in his– his– his– he can’t even  _ begin _ to describe what he’s feeling right now, he’s so pissed off. He needed to leave before he acted on his desires to do something  _ violent _ to the man, who looked like he was half tempted to pat Noct on the head.

_ Do it and you  _ will _ lose that hand, asshole. _ “Why don't you run along and find your nursemaid, your Highness, she must be worried sick over losing you.” Noct offered him a terse smile before  _ calmly and serenely _ walking out the door.

He found his way to a deserted corridor, one down the hall and to the left of the Infirmary and began to pace as he thought up a whole slew of varying degrees of malicious pranks to inflict on that smug dickface. However, that didn’t really help his pissy mood–nor his violent thoughts–which fed off each other until he got so tangled up in them both that he didn’t realize he had punched a very solid stone wall until he felt pain shooting up his arm and–

Someone please tell him that he was blind two seconds ago and that crack was always there.

“Whoa there, Highness!” He whipped around to stare into the alarmed faces of the Glaives who had been in the Infirmary. “What did you do that for, hmm?” The one who talked back to LAME stepped forward and held out her hands like she was speaking to a skittish animal, which was probably a fair assessment given his current state. The other Glaives hung back, all of them looking mighty uncomfortable. “May I?” She gestured to his still clenched fist.

“Yeah...” She knelt in front of him–he already liked her better than LAME–and gently manipulated his hand into loosening. “He just made me so  _ mad _ .” Noct finally confessed, as his emotions finally overwhelmed him and–to his mortification–he felt tears well in his eyes.  _ Goddamn it. _ He sniffed and used his uninjured hand to rub them.

She offered him a sympathetic smile. “He makes a lot of people mad. My name’s Luana, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. Please, call me Noct.” He shyly requested and bowed his head to them.

“Noct, huh?” She ‘hmm’ed under her breath, as she continued bending his hand in different directions.

“Mmhmm!” Noct bounced in place, bad mood already dissipating thanks to good company.

“Well, it looked like you lucked out, your hand isn’t even bruised.” Luana commented as she released his captive hand and stood up, motioning to the other Glaives. She looked at Noct with a raised eyebrow. “You said you wanted to help out, right? Know any first aid?” Noct shook his head.

"No, but I’m willing to learn!” He chirped with a grin. Luana smiled and started walking, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you willing to learn more things than just First Aid?” Noct nodded so fast, he almost made himself dizzy. She laughed and then began introducing her fellow Glaives. “This is Erik.” She pointed to a pale burly redhead with a bushy beard, who grinned wildly at him. “Amira,” a dusky-skinned woman with sharp brown eyes and black hair woven into a multitude of tiny braids waved. “Tamara,” another woman nodded, this one pale with white hair and red eyes (like actual crimson red, that was so cool!), “and Adrian.” The last man in the group smiled slightly, his light blond hair shone in the low light and his golden eyes tracked things only he could see. Luana said something to the adults in a language he didn't understand and walked off, stopping just out of hearing range. She pulled out a phone and that's when Erik distracted him by enthusiastically shaking his hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, young Prince!” He quietly  _ boomed _ , which was probably the only way Noct could describe his volume.

“Call me Noct, Noctis if you really have to be formal about it.” He repeated as he shook out the ache in his hand behind his back and saw Tamara snicker silently out of the corner of his eye. The crimson eyed woman began to gesture with her hands and Noct was lost. Thankfully, Amira noticed and started explaining.

“Mara is mute and uses her hands to speak. She said, ‘Eric doesn’t know his own strength, or really understand volume control outside of stealth missions. Too many loud explosions in his youth.’”

“Oh.” That made some sense and Noct blinked when Amira smiled down at him.

“If you want, I can teach you some Sign Language later.”

“Yes, please!”  _ New knowledge, yay!  _ Noct bounced on his toes in excitement as Luana finished her phone call and walked back to them. 

“Thanks for waiting.” She nodded at the group and turned to face Noct, “You handled yourself quite well back there, against Howard.”

“Was that his name? I just called him Lousy Asshole Medical Eyesore in my head.” He admitted and it earned him a burst of laughter from the Glaives.

“He vas very ‘lame’, vasn’t he?” Adrian mused, accent hardening his ‘w’s and Noct really wanted to cry because everyone in this group had amazing accents, and here he was with a stupid Lucian one.

The group stopped in front of the doors that Noct knew would lead down to the Glaive training arena. Luana tilted her head and placed a finger to her ear. Whatever news she received made her grin ferally, with the others joining in when she spoke to them again in her unknown language. Luana turned to him and pointed a stern finger at him, “Rules while you’re here, Noct.” He snapped to attention, trying to match Luana’s own stance when she was talking to Howard. He thought he was pretty close by the way the Glaives traded smiles.

“Rule one: do not go into the Magic Realm when the Mages are at work. That is how you end up like the poor sod you saw earlier.” Yeah no, not doing that, lesson learned  _ waaaay _ before he saw Crispy.

“Rule Two: you will do exactly as we tell you while you are down there. If someone else gives you orders, you are to come and double check with one of us.” Ok, that's fair.

“Rule Three: you will tell one of your minders where you are going before walking through those doors. I've already told the Marshall where you were going to be.” He blinked, he didn’t even think about that and he was glad someone did. “There may be more rules in the future, but for now you are good to go.”

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am!” He offered a salute and didn't protest when Adrian reached out and corrected him.

“Cut the cutesy crap, kid, because both the Marshall and the King green-lighted my training plan. The Marshall’s sending down his own sprog later, but for now,” Luana offered him a sharp smile and Noctis gulped, feeling a shiver run down his spine. That smile made him think that this may have been a bad idea. “You belong to us.” Noctis whimpered as the Glaives continued to grin in predatory anticipation and he hoped Prompto was going to get here soon because he didn’t want to suffer alone!

“Welcome to Basic Training.”

* * *

The first day of what he was going to refer to as Hell from now on was finally (and thankfully) over. However, before he could go and collapse into bed, he was drafted into babysitting Gladio and Ari for the night. Okay, so a nursemaid–her name was Erica and she was really cool, because she played video games too–was also there to babysit, but Noct was a grown ass man who didn't need no sitter. Then he winced as he imagined the unimpressed glare Iggy would have given him for that double negative and he hastily looked around for something to take his mind off that particular image.  _ There! _ Gladio was gearing up to cry and Noct ran over to calm him down.

However, it took all of two seconds for the smell to drive him back towards the TV and he watched from a safe distance, pouting, as he was laughed at by Erica cleaning and re-diapering the squirming 17 month old. “How does that smell not bother you?” Noct was honestly curious as, by that point, Gladio was placed back on his blanket next to a giggling Ari.

“Oh, it’s not the best thing in the world, your highness, but if you do it quickly–and carefully–enough, the smell isn’t too bad.” He divided his attention between watching TV and her puttering around the room.

“Can you teach me? Um, how to do  _ that _ .” He waved at Gladio when she looked at him questioningly.

“Why, planning on having a baby soon?” She teased and snorted at the face he pulled.

“No, but Ari is my sister and Gladio is my godson and cousin, I want to help out.” Why did Noct have a feeling that she was only holding out against her desire to pinch his cheeks (or something equally as embarrassing) by her fingertips?

“Very well, your highness. First, let’s practice…” The rest of the night was spent bemoaning his thirst for knowledge as he learned how to wipe, powder and then put a diaper on a ball he had lying around. Especially when Ari began to cry and Erica let him change her while watching him like a hawk for the simplest mistake.

Probably the only reason he hadn’t run away screaming at that point was the mantra swimming through his head:  _ Think of the blackmail material, Noct. _ It got him through both the horrible smell and being pissed on.

_ Just think. Of. The. Blackmail. _

* * *

A week after that, on a Rest Day according to Luana’s Training Plan from  _ Hell _ and Noct was staring at the vast History Section of the Citadel Library with wide and terrified eyes. Don’t get him wrong, he liked to read. But the  _ sheer amount _ of mind numbingly boring and dry as bone books he would have to go through was honestly enough to make him burst into tears.

Noct sighed, the things he did in the name of satisfying his damn curiosity… but where the hell was he even going to start?! Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures, right? He closed his eyes with an arm raised and spun around in circles before stopping just before he got dizzy.

Opening his eyes revealed his finger pointing towards a book about halfway up a  _ very _ dusty bookshelf against the back wall. He dragged a ladder over to get it down and gently set it on the table, sneezing all the while. Astrals, don’t people  _ clean _ around here? He sat down and waited until he stopped sneezing then tied a bandana around his face like he was a bandit about to rob a train. Maybe  _ that _ would keep the dust out of his nose.

He canted his head as he studied the thick tome in front of him. It was handbound with a leather cover dyed a rich red that looked like it hadn’t faded at all as unknown years passed it by, held closed by an undyed leather cord wrapped around an intricately carved bone clasp. And when he opened it, he realized that those unknown years were actually millenia because, there–written in a child’s Ancient Lucian–were words proclaiming this journal had once belonged to Ardyn Izunia. And,  _ Holy shit _ , was he now really glad that Dad had made him learn the dead language.

Noct huffed out a disbelieving breath and–with a careful hand–began to read about what life was like two thousand years ago, all through the eyes of his ancestor as a child. He read about the boy’s thoughts on the birth of his little brother, when he met Aera, even the day he learned to heal! Before he knew it, he had reached the end of the journal and, _Sweet_ _Shiva,_ did he need to find the others.

Returning to the bookcase he had found that first one on, he searched it from top to bottom until he had located every single journal that had Ardyn’s handwriting in, on, or around it. He continued Ardyn’s journey from an ordinary Izunia to the Astral-Chosen Lucis Caelum and was in awe at what his one-time adversary had accomplished in this timeline, and  _ would have _ –should have–achieved in Noct’s previous life, if only the brothers hadn’t grown apart.

He leaned back in his chair after closing the last journal, with the final entry written the day before Ardyn was said to have died.  _ Wow… _ Noct shook his head as he took his own journal from the armiger and added what he just learned to the list of differences between his old timeline and this new one.

  * Descended from Ardyn instead of Somnus
  * Scourge is weaker here - I really hope that’s true
  * NO PROPHECY!!!!
  * Something’s going to happen that makes the 10 years of darkness look tame????
  * Mom is alive
  * I’m 10 years older with a different birthday - to make up for the time spent in the Crystal? 
  * Cor adopted Prompto - who is also older with a different birthday
  * Ardyn married the first Oracle, whose name was Aera Mirus Fleuret
  * Mom has Astral Blood (Ifrit & Shiva) - not really a difference apparently...

\-------

  * Aera liked both flowers and archaeology - wonder if she had a journal around here too. That would be _so cool!_
  * Ardyn was just as much of a troll as the Accursed was, but _way_ less malicious - don't know if that was a difference but interesting all the same
  * Ardyn had blue magic - red was scourge maybe??
  * Somnus was a troll as a child but unfortunately grew up
  * Somnus and Gilgamesh were also a thing, that’s kinda… I don't know really.
  * Gilgamesh was an Amicitia - don't actually know if that's a difference really. Wonder if Gladio knew and didn't tell me…
  * Gilgamesh wasn’t the first Shield, that was his daughter Manu. Who was also Somnus’?? Apparently Gil and Som went to a Solheim ruin and came back with a baby girl, who grew into the Amicitia height/eyes and used LC magic to warp to escape bathtime
  * Ardyn was purged of the scourge about a year after he married Aera - she cleansed him with help from the Astrals and their unborn kid? - interesting...
  * Their first daughter, Vita, was the chosen heir. She was born with the future Lucis Caelum trademark feature: the Blue-Black Hair - red is recessive I think? Also take that you misogynistic scholars, Lucis second ruler was a queen_. _OMG What if there are more queens of Lucis then there are kings????
  * A&A’s second daughter, the blonde Animia, began the Line of Oracles - that means me and Luna–and Ravus too, I guess–are cousins! Kinda… Wonder if the Oracle Line can still access LC Black Magic? Or maybe even the Armiger??
  * The brothers stayed friends until the very end - as much as siblings can be friends I guess?

That was a decent addition to his personal project, right? Anyway, his next question was whether to put these journals back, put them in the Armiger, or show them to Dad. Tough choice, really… but in the end, he decided to show them to Dad later and stuffed them into the Armiger, where they couldn’t be lost and/or damaged. With that taken care of, and time to spare before Dad came to collect him for dinner, Noctis wandered the more recent shelves.

Which is how he ended up spending the next hour, giggling hysterically at some of the antics his dad and uncles got up to during their road trip. “Ah!” Dad's voice made him jump about a foot into the air. “I see you’ve found the records of my so-called ill-spent youth, if you were one to listen to my father’s council.” Noct blinked up at him, watching him lean against one of the more sturdier bookcases with a nostalgic smile across his face. Dad shook his head and held out a hand, which Noct grabbed and was hoisted up with minimal effort.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Mhm?” Noct held up a photograph he hadn’t seen until he had met Cid for the first time, which probably meant Dad never took it out of the archives.

“Who’s in this picture? I recognize Uncle Cor and Uncle Clarus, but who are these two people?” Pretending not to know something was actually getting easier to do and Noct didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“Ah,” was all Dad said when he gently took the photo in hand. “These good people were a part of my Retinue when I made my way across Eos to renew the old Lucian-Accordo alliance. The two you don't recognize are Weskham Armaugh, my ever faithful retainer, and Cid Sophiar, the unofficial Royal Mechanic.” Dad stopped and let out a chuckle. “Cid actually wasn’t originally part of my Retinue, but the Regalia broke down about a mile away from his then-unknown pit stop. We pushed it there and the man took one look under that hood, decided whoever worked on her before was an absolute idiot, and started taking her apart right before our very eyes. He joined us, I believe, because he didn’t trust anybody else with the Old Girl.

“We parted ways when Weskham was unfortunately hurt in battle, having to be left behind in Altissa for specialized treatment while Cid and I had a…  _ minor _ disagreement about Insomina's refugee policy. Which, given my current issue, I must admit he was right to worry over.” Dad made a disgusted noise and covered his eyes with his free hand.

“Now I need someone to hang out in the Immigrant District and report back to me on the conditions so I have enough proof to do something about it.” Noct patted Dad’s arm sympathetically before pausing. Wait, he could do that! Impatiently, he switched to tugging on his shirt sleeve until Dad was looking at him and then suggested that  _ he _ could be the one doing that. After all, who could resist a cute kid? He was basking in his hard-earned genius when  _ someone _ just _ had to _ burst his bubble.

“And how, exactly, are you going to do that without being recognized as the Crown Prince?” Dad slid his hand down to rest on his chin, raised eyebrow in full view. “Because I refuse to have you running around alone without a guard. You have been kidnapped one too many times for my sense of peace.” Right, forgot no one knew about that.

Noct cleared his throat, “Dad, I need to tell you and Mom something after Dinner. And maybe the rest of the family too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _mo stór_ \- my treasure  
_mo leanbh_ \- my child  
_Gaeilge_ \- Irish  
_mo chuisle_ \- my pulse


	8. Of Heart Attacks and Truths Finally Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a truth is told and heart attacks are given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** Beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Nada

Noct knew he unsettled his entire family during dinner by the way he ate his vegetables without a single complaint or disgusted face, but he couldn’t help it! He  _ really _ didn’t know how they would take the whole thing about him being a shapeshifter. What if they didn’t believe that he really  _ was _ Noct? What if they tried to torture him to find out where the ‘real’ Noct was? Knowing full well what the Crownsguard would do to him if that was the case, he tried to cut off the impending panic attack by closing his eyes and counting his breaths, blocking out all other stimuli like Iggy taught him in the previous timeline.

Opening his eyes, he jerked back in his chair because he was  _ so _ not expecting Mom to be all up in his face. “Are ya ok,  _ mo leanbh? _ If ya need more time, we can postpone the talk for a later date. But  _ only _ if ya need it.” She was on her knees in front of him with Dad standing behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

“This learning spree you've been on lately, was it a distraction tactic of some sort?” Dad asked, concern visible in his eyes.

Noct shook his head and stared at the hands that were resting in his lap. “No, Dad. I was just... taking your advice after our talk a while back.” He curled his fingers into tight fists. “And thanks Mom, but if I don’t talk about it now, I don’t think I ever will.” He took another deep breath and breathed out his anxieties. Looking up at the people gathered in front of him, he thought,  _ this was it. _

“The thing I wanted to talk to you about was…” he trailed off and gulped,  _ C’mon Noct, you can do this _ . “I may have kept something from you, a–about my latest kidnapping.” The adults traded looks, but Prompto ignored them and pulled him out of his seat and into a hug.  _ Six please bless this sunshine child for being such a wonderful person _ , Noct thought as he burrowed deeper into his best friend's embrace.

He looked up when Uncle Cor walked into the corner of his eye and knelt in front of him. The man placed a hand on his son’s back, looking into his eyes, and gently asked, “What did you leave out, Noctis?”

“It–it might be better to show you. Can we go to the pools? And–and can we bring some towels, too?” He had discovered the pools one day when he was running from... um, you know what, that part wasn't important. What  _ was _ important, was the fact that the Citadel had naturally formed pools–with both fresh and saltwater–in an underground vault below the original foundations. He didn’t know if the old timeline’s Citadel had them and if it did, he had never found them–not that he had looked hard. Though to be fair, he wasn’t much into exploration his first go around, so who knows?

Anyway, nobody but the Royal Family and those closest to them knew about them, so Noct thought that they would suit his current needs perfectly. The adults nodded and, with all children collected and accounted for, they made their way down to the bowels of the Citadel.

_ **\---** _

Noct faced the nearest saltwater pool and swallowed. He really didn’t want to do this, but he had already come this far and his parents did  _ not _ raise a coward, so he turned around to face his family with a grim smile. Dad made an aborted grab, almost like he wanted to pull him back, and Noct realized Dad probably never wanted him near any kind of body of water larger than a bathtub ever again.

Mom grabbed Dad’s outstretched hand and entwined their fingers together and Noct kind of wanted to coo at them. He had heard other people complain about their parents being disgusting, and he never understood why. Maybe because his parents never had a chance to grow old together in his previous timeline? He shook his head,  _ ok Noct, time to stop procrastinating… _

“After Leviathan brought me back to you guys, at my…funeral? Huh I crashed my own funeral, another thing crossed off the bucket list, I guess.” He saw his parents blanche and winced at his lack of tact. “Uh, sorry. Anyway, I told you that my kidnappers tried to sacrifice me to the Tidemother to gain her favor and she took offense to that and killed them all before they could touch me, right?” The adults nodded while Prompto hung off Uncle Cor’s arm, looking sad at the reminder that he almost lost his best friend. Noct was really batting a thousand today, wasn't he?

“Well that… wasn’t… exactly true…?" He licked his lips at the look of horror that dawned in his parents eyes and then words just started tumbling out of his mouth. He explained in rushed sentences exactly what happened on that ship in the middle of Accordian waters and finished with, “The boss lady kinda cut my throat and tossed me overboard?” He flinched at the questioning tone that ended with. Ok, so maybe he was making a mess of things, but who could blame him? He  _ really _ truly didn’t want to do this!

“You say that she…” Aunt Heather, looking disturbed, cleared her throat and pushed ever onward.  _ We ignoring the behemoth in the room? Alright then, good show. Carry on then, shall we?  _ “She threw you overboard. How did you survive? The amount of blood in the water must have seemed like a feast to the aquatic predators in that area.”

“That's why I asked to come down here, so I could show you.”

“Kid, you better not-” Uncle Clarus grew alarmed and Noct waved his hands around frantically, trying to put their–his–fears to rest.

“No! Nononono no, no no. Just–just bear with me? Please?” Noctis started undressing, ignoring his family's confused noises, and once he was clad only in his underwear, he fell straight back into sea water. He listened to his parents shout and closed his eyes in regret as he felt the change wash over him.

_ **\---** _

Regis cried out as he watched his near-naked child topple backwards into the pool behind him and suddenly he had his daughter in his arms because Aulea shoved her at him–none too gently–in her rush to get to the edge of the pool. She paused and stared, eyes wide at whatever was in front of her.

“By all the Gods... Regis! Get over here, now!” Aulea yell had him scrambling to hand Lunaris over to Clarus before sprinting towards her. He tripped to his knees, ignoring the harsh ache in his right leg, and slammed his hands to the ground as he, too, stared in shock at the sight before him. There was Noctis, his son, his miracle baby that paved the way for his sister, smiling up at them like he hadn't just given them a massive heart attack.

Then Regis noticed the fins that replaced his ears and the blue black scales dotting his cheeks, his arms, his skin all the way down until they reached… Tail, his baby had a tail. A fish tail. A fish tail that looked like the orchid crowntail betta he once had in his office. Regis ignored the rest of the group coming up behind him as he massaged his temples and tried to force his world into making sense again. Unfortunately, it seemed that he should have been paying attention to someone else, because Prompto had just ran past him and took a flying leap at Noctis.

“Prompto!” Cor felt his heart stop as Prompto’s hand slipped through his slack grip and he watched in horror as his son–who didn’t know how to  _ swim _ –dived at his best friend. He pushed past his monarchs, not caring that he just shoved Regis to the ground, and took his brother’s place at the edge of the pool.

Both boys had vanished under the murky water and Cor couldn’t see either of them. And that remained unchanged, until about two minutes later when they heard a much welcomed voice call out behind them.

"DAD!"

_ **\---** _

Noct felt his eyes widen just as Prompto slammed into him, with the momentum pushing them below the surface and into the deeper waters in mere seconds. The next thing he knew, they were caught up in the pool’s currents and sucked into a lower tunnel, which he  _ so _ did not know was a thing. He wrapped thin arms around Prompto and held on for dear life as the currents ran them through a rinse cycle.

Moments stretched into ages before they were finally spat out into calm waters and Noct swam them both up to the surface. He hoped against all hope that his best friend was okay, because there was no way in hell Prompto could have held his breath through all that. Heaving the blond onto a tiny strip of solid ground, he had the scare of his life– _ both of them– _ when Prompto shot up and demanded that they needed to do that again.

“How the fu-?” He bit off the swear before it could fully escape. He did  _ not _ need Uncle Cor coming after him because he taught his Sunshine Child how to curse before the blond reached double digits.  _ No thanks, I choose life. _

Prompto blinked at him, “I didn’t tell you?” Noct shook his head and the blond giggled. “Dad said that, thanks to the Niffs, I can hold my breath really easily, even while under dur–dur -uhm…”

“Duress?” He supplied faintly, operating on half a brain, the other part still being in shock.

Prompto snapped his fingers, “Yeah, that! Duress.” The blond cocked his head to the side, like a puppy. “What does that word mean anyway?”

“It means a lot of worry or hurt, basically.”Noct practically saw the proverbial light bulb turn on. “Ohhh.” Prompto looked around. “Hey, Noct? Where are we?”

Taking the smooth subject change as it was meant to be taken as, he looked around the area and realized that he didn’t even know if they were still in the Citadel. All he saw was wall, wall more wall and–oh wait, that looked promising. He turned to Prompto and pointed over his shoulder, asking, “Hey you think if you got on my shoulders, you could see over the top of that?”

Prompto followed his finger and shrugged a shoulder, “Dunno, but we can try! Uh, should I drag you up here or…”

“Let’s try it down here first. I can’t really breathe air right now and I don’t want to waste anymore time trying to change that.” With that, Noct helped the blond into the water again and they moved to the wall. It took some manoeuvring, but they managed to reach the top just enough for Prompto to grab the edge and hoist his upper body over it.

“DAD!” Was all Noct heard and soon Prompto's bottom half vanished, presumably due to Uncle Cor grabbing him.

“Oh, Noctis…” He startled and looked up into Dad’s relieved olive eyes, peering over the ledge. “You really need to stop giving this old man near heart attacks.”

“Dad…” He couldn’t think of anything other than– “You’re not  _ that _ old.” Mom gave a hearty chuckle from where she was looming over Dad’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Reggie, 28’s not  _ that _ old.” She teased him then turned to stare down at Noct. “Is there anyway ya can get up here,  _ mo leanbh _ ?”

“Yeah maybe, give me a sec.” He focused on breathing in air through his nose while ignoring any water filtering through the gills on his chest. Soon enough, he was breathing oxygen just as well as any landwalker. He swam back over to the wall he had drifted away from as he concentrated. He took a deep breath and dug his claws into stone, hoping this would work. Slowly but surely, he began making his way up the wall.

Just as he was about to reach the top, his claws slipped and he felt himself sliding down. Thankfully, he was caught in a gentle grip and hoisted up and over the ridge. He landed in his parents’ laps, who gave no thought to the water staining their clothes–or the tail sprawled over their legs–to give him a tight hug.

“I’m never letting you get close to any sort of water smaller than a bathtub again,” Dad muttered in his ear (seems Noct was right in his earlier thinking). Then he continued in a louder voice, “Is this all you’re going to show us? Because it isn’t really helping your case about being my spy in the Immigrant District.”

“Noooooo... But, um, you might want to back up a bit?”

Mom snorted, “Nope, ya can show whatever ‘tis while we hold ya.”

“If you’re sure.” Noct wasn’t looking forward to this next bit. He really, really wasn’t. He shook his tail out and bit back a whimper as he felt bones break and reform into legs. Then the world went dark as a towel fell over him and he let his parents roughly dry him off. “Before I show you, could you promise that you’ll believe that I am who I say I am?” He peeked out from under the damp cloth as the adults exchanged looks and breathed out a relieved sigh at their nods. “Okay.” He took in a deep breath. “Okay,” he repeated.

He heard rather than saw (mainly because he refused to look up) the group gasp when he changed into the spitting image of Prompto. “How…” he heard Mom breathe and risked looking up through his lashes. The adults’ faces held varying amounts of shock and he lowered his gaze again.

“Can you-can you  _ just _ change into people you know? Or-or kids the same age?” Uncle Cor choked out. Noct answered his question by scrambling out of his parents’ hold and shifting into a tall dark-skinned woman their own age with startling sea green eyes.

He saw Cor cover Prompto’s eyes out of the corner of his eye and–sure enough–his somewhat generous chest was bared for all to see. Well, apparently his brain has yet to switch back to human normal.  _ Whoops _ . “Sorry about that,” he offered as he wrapped the towel around his torso and smirked at the reactions to his smokey voice, especially Cor’s. His uncle coughed, looking  _ very _ uncomfortable, and removed the hand from Prompto’s eyes, while shooting a dark glare at Noct for his snickers.

He refocused on the others, who just looked confused. “Again, sorry ‘bout that. Mers generally don’t have a sense of shame and they think that landwalkers are strange for having one.” He waited for them to pull themselves together, but they continued to stare blankly at him.

“But... you’re human?” Mom stated questioningly and now it was his turn with the lightbulb.

“Oh, right. Of course you wouldn’t know,” Noct mumbled and then clarified, “When I change shape, my brain chemistry matches that change, as well as gaining some form of instinctual knowledge.” That last bit was complete and utter  _ bullshit _ , but it gave people a plausible explanation about certain things that a child his supposed age shouldn’t know anything about and he was glad he just thought of it.

“Okay, hold up, hold up.” Uncle Clarus waved a hand through the air to pause the current conversation. “Let me get this straight.” He pointed at Noctis and demanded, “You can change how you look with a thought?”

“Yeeess?” He dragged out, hoping this wasn’t going where he thought it was, but the Shield just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why didn’t you tell us this in the first place, kid?”

Noct deflated and returned to smol child shape. “‘Cause I was scared that you wouldn’t think it was actually me that had gotten dropped off. And I didn’t want you to try and make me tell you where the ‘real’ Noctis was.” He was kinda embarrassed by the tears that sprung to his eyes, but you know what, fuck it, he was currently eight years old and  _ he was allowed to cry, damn it! _

“Oh, Noctis.” Dad gathered him in his arms and carded gentle fingers through his hair. “Baby, let me tell you something.” He sniffled and let Dad's next heartfelt words wash over him. “You are my  _ child _ , and that means we have a connection that can never ever be fooled, nor truly broken. It means that I can tell you are who you say you are, and forever will. It means that I will always,  _ always _ , love you. No matter the shape you decided to take, even if you choose something daemonic or completely unnatural.”

Dad stopped stroking his hair and instead tipped his chin up with a knuckle so their eyes met. “Understand, little Nightlight?” Noct nodded and tried to match Dad’s smile. He didn’t know how well he managed the simple gesture, but he thought Dad appreciated it all the same.

Then Mom reached over to wipe his tears away with a kerchief and he switched his attention to her. She smiled down at him, with her own tears running down her cheeks, and drew him into a hug. “Ya should also never be afraid ta tell us anythin’,  _ mo leanbh _ .  _ Anythin’. _ ” Her damp cheek rested on his equally damp hair and Noct took a moment to savour the feeling. They held each other for a bit before they separated and Mom dried her face.

Noct stared at his parents, thought about their words, opened his mouth to say somethi–

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DIDN’T TELL ME SOONER!”

_ Sweet  _ Six,  _ Prompto! _ Trust the sunshine boi to fail in reading the atmosphere–or much more likely– _ just ignore it all together, _ but then he had everyone laughing as the blond wailed on Noct for ‘not thinking of the pranks! So many pranks,  _ missed _ ! Noct, how could you  _ do _ this to  _ meeeeeeee _ ?!’ The tension was undeniably broken and the rest converged on to the Royal Family with Uncle Clarus returning Ari back to Dad’s loving arms.

Aunt Heather stopped next to him and stated, “Let’s get you dressed before you catch cold, kiddo.” She handed Gladio to her husband, who protested that he  _ just _ got rid of one brat and he  _ certainly _ didn't want to handle another one. “Suck it up, buttercup,” she retorted as she picked Noctis up and he let his head fall onto her shoulder, giggling tiredly at her response. “C’mon, Noct. Let’s leave Grumpy Guts to his grumbling.”

“But I still have something to tell–” A jaw-cracking yawn forced him to stop mid sentence. “You all.”

“Ah pap pap pap! No,” Aunt Heather denied as she shifted him. “Only one earth-shattering conversation per day, kiddo.”

_ She has no idea, _ he thought, faintly amused, as he drifted off. He woke up to someone whispering his name what felt like two seconds later. He grumbled and turned his head away from the voice, content to ignore the world for a few more hours. A soft kiss pressed to the top of his head was the last thing he felt before falling back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Nada


	9. Of Prophecies and Astrals Explained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the whole truth is given and everyone ends up sleeping in the King's Office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Nada
> 
> All mistakes are mine, if you should spot somthing, drop a comment and I'll fix it

When Noct next came around, the memory of what he had said to Aunt Heather hit him and he spent the next few minutes smothering himself with Mana the Moogle, wondering if he _ really _ wanted to let other people know the sordid details of his past. Then, after letting his thoughts run around fruitlessly, he flipped over to stare restlessly at nothing.

“Are you done being melodramatic?” Cor’s sudden appearance had him just about clinging to the ceiling in surprise. That surprise quickly turned to annoyance and he began to swear at the jerk, using _ every single curse word _ he had learned from the Glaives in his demand to know where the _ fuck _ he had just come from.

Cor's eyebrow rose steadily as his nephew's tirade ran on for a good ten minutes without repeating anything and he was impressed despite himself. The kid knew his swears. “Okay, first of all, as a responsible adult, I feel like I should reprimand you for your language, but as a younger brother and your uncle, I instead choose to applaud your expanded vocabulary." He let Noctis giggle at that for a bit before shrugging. "And to answer your question, your dad sent me to check on you because he's being badgered by council members about issues that apparently are unable to wait until their next appointment and can't do it himself."

"And Mom?"

"Laughing at him along with Prompto, last time I checked."

"Ah." Noct fiddled with the blankets and Cor sighed.

“Last night, Heather said that you had something else to tell us?”

_ Well, shit. Can’t back out now, I guess. _ “Yeah, I do.” Cor waited for him to continue but Noct wasn't going to say a word about it until–

"I assume that you'll only tell the entirety of us?"

Exactly that, yes, and Noct tried to contain it, he really did, but… "Are you a mind reader, Uncle Cor? Cuz you assumed correctly." The urge to sass was simply too strong to ignore. Cor looked so completely done with his (definitely favourite) nephew's attitude that Noct adopted a repentant face immediately after.

"Uh-huh." His uncle held the expression for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and sighing. "It's like looking at a mini Regis sometimes, I swear." He muttered under his breath and Noct hid his snickers in Mana's fur. Cor's comment of 'I heard that, kid' only made him laugh harder and now his uncle looked way too pleased with himself. Wonder what that's about?

Whatever, Noct's giggles had finally petered off and he scrambled to untangle himself from his sheets, but only succeeded in ensnaring himself further. Then it was Cor's turn to laugh at him for a while (which was _ rude _ Uncle Cor, now Uncle Clarus was his favorite) before the adult finally got off his lazy ass and helped his poor suffering nephew. Noct displayed his displeasure with a fierce pout, which only made Cor ruffle his hair while giving a fond looking smile.

"Alright kiddo, let's get you dressed and then we can join the rest of the family in laughing at your dad." Noct increased his pout power to the max but the appeal of making fun of Dad made him finally give in to the inevitable.

"Urgh, fiiiiiiiine."

_ **\---** _

After Dad finally fought off all the leeches (and deprived his family of their enjoyment, how rude), he made his escape into his private office wherein he planted his face into the couch closest to the door. Noct and Prompto had a giggle fit when his whine reached their ears.

"Why are you all so _ mean _ to me?" The so-called adult and King of Lucis bemoaned. "What did I do to deserve this." Noct saw Cor and Clarus exchange smirks and knew there was a good story about to be told.

"I mean," Clarus began, his smirk morphing into a wicked grin. "There was that thing in Malmalam Thicket–" Unfortunately, the stars were not aligned in Noct's favour because Dad shot up and slapped both hands over Clarus' mouth.

"Absolutely nothing happened!" Dad squeaked. As in his mouth made a legitimate squeaking noise and now Noct _ really _ wanted to know what happened. Maybe he could corner Clarus and/or Cor later and manipulate them into telling him. For now though, he was content to watch Dad proclaim that no power on _ Eos _ could make him tell that story and if they knew what was good for them, Clarus and Cor would remain silent too _ . _

"Or should I explain to Heather what happened in Altissia, or ooh, how about _ Lestallum _, Cor?" Now it was his Uncles time to squeak out a protest and vow that not a word would pass their lips without his consent. "'S’what I thought." Dad sniffed, nose high in the air and back turned. Mom and Aunt Heather exchanged a look before simultaneously rolling their eyes and moving to put sleeping babies into the crib Dad had installed so he could give Mom a break from watching Ari, or at least that's what Noct guessed the crib was for?

"Anyway," Dad spun around to face the rest of them with a finger raised high. "I cleared all our schedules for the week, because I have a feeling we're going to need the extra time to digest what my darling son is going to tell us."

Noct watched as Cor's brows furrowed as he stared at Dad, his eyes lit with curiosity. "Does this feeling have to do with why we found you unresponsive in the halls a couple months ago?" His youngest uncle asked and Noct shot Prompto an alarmed look because what if he heard them? Or worse, _ saw the flashback itself. _

Alarm turned to dread when Dad nodded as he turned to Noct with a solemn look in his eyes before kneeling in front of him to gather Noct's hands to hold within his own. Dread then froze into pure panic when Dad confirmed his fears. "I saw what happened in the throne room, Noctis." Noct's trembling legs gave out and he crashed to the floor, Dad following him a bit more gracefully as he squeezed their joined hands in silent support, which Noct appreciated very much. He said as much and Dad looked like he was trying to give a smile but could only offer the ghost of one.

After a few false starts, and Mom putting a hand on his shoulder, Dad sighed heavily. "I told myself that I would wait for you, that I would never tell anyone of what I saw that night. And I haven't, though your Mother found out soon after I did, through our connection. I tried to stop her, of course, but you know how she is, always needing to know our business."

He gave a strained laugh when Mom smacked him gently before joining them on the floor. By that time, everyone had found a seat: Clarus and Heather on one couch and Cor on the other, with Prompto curled around Noct, who was very glad his best friend was borderline empathetic and knew he needed him there.

"If you would like, I could tell them?" Dad offered when Noct let the silence go on for a bit too long. Noct opened his mouth to refuse but just the mere _ thought _ of explaining his past again had him wanting to find a hole to crawl in and he decided to take the out Dad gave him. He let Prompto reel him into a tighter hug and closed his eyes, focusing on Prompto's heartbeat and Dad's hand in his hair instead of the past horrors coming from Dad's mouth. In fact, he focused so much that he nodded off between one breath and the next.

Almost thirty minutes later, the children were fast asleep, Heather had moved to comfort Aulea who may or may not have needed it and Regis just finished retelling his son's previous life as he knew it. He let the silence settle for a bit before sighing, "I know that there's more he didn't tell Prompto, and Clarus," Regis shot his elder brother a quelling look before the man could speak the words Regis knew were on the tip of his tongue, "before you say that it was a trauma induced nightmare, let me tell you this: my bond with Noctis let me know that the words falling from his lips were true. It also let me _feel_ _the absolute relief _my child felt at _dying. _By_ my hand,_ in case that wasn't clear to you." Regis hissed menacingly as he stood to loom over his paling Shield. He wasn't too proud to admit he started crying as he remembered the complete emotional upheaval the moment gave him.

He ineffectively wiped at his eyes but soon gave it up to instead glare at his stupid elder brother. "So, yes, I do believe Noctis when he said he remembered living once before in an alternate universe." Anger finally depleted, Regis sank back down to the ground and let his fingers comb through Noctis' hair again as he stared into space, ignoring the conversations that cropped up to fill the silence.

A groggy voice startled him and he looked down into the sleepy blue eyes of his son. "You felt me, Dad? When the..." Noctis trailed off, not that Regis blamed him one bit.

"I–Yes." He sighed as he hefted his son up to rest on his crossed legs. He was in the process of picking Prompto up (or at least giving it the old college try) when a hand suddenly yanked him backwards so that his back was against a sturdy chest (when did Clarus _ even _–?) and Prompto was shuffled over to sit on Cor's lap. Cor, who had decided to sit next to him and was leaning his head against Regis' shoulder like he hadn't done since their mother adopted him into the family (the Amicitia Side, at least). Then Aulea dropped in–while holding Lunaris–on the opposite side with a heavy weight on top of her, and yes, there was Heather with Gladiolus, reclining on his wife like she was a chair instead of a Queen of an entire country.

Regis shook his head and decided he wasn’t paid enough to continue that thought process. So instead, he watched Aulea prop her head on Noctis' and ask him if he ‘remembered any embarrassin' stories regardin' ya father?’

Regis let his head fall back into Clarus and felt the older man laugh at whatever story Noctis was regaling them with and closed his eyes, content with just listening to the sounds of his family having fun nearby.

** _\---_ **

"I can give you dates." Noctis said about an hour later when everyone else was asleep.

"Dates for what, Nightlight?" Regis blinked down at his son, who was staring at him with tired eyes. He steadfastly ignored the scar stretching across a pale throat, viciously reminding himself the bitch responsible was dead and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Dates of Niff attacks, though I don't know if it'll help any. Things are different in this timeline, Mom didn't survive giving birth to me, so Ari wasn't born. I was ten years younger too. I didn't almost get sacrificed to _ Seanaintín _either, though I was almost killed after Niflheim sent a daemon after me on a trip outside the wall. And since Ardyn–" Noctis sat up with a gasp and Regis was surprised that nobody stirred at the loud and sudden noise. He watched as his son reached into the Armiger and brought out a pile of journals.

"I found the Healer King's personal journals." Noctis held them out to Regis with a proud look on his face. "They were hiding in an old bookshelf that hadn't been dusted in years. _ Years _, dad! Like I opened these up and I spent ages sneezing, there was so much dust." Regis took the top one, speechless and cracked it open to read the 'Property of Ardyn Izunia' written in the front cover with a child's hand. "I don't know how nobody ever found them, but I thought they were an interesting read."

Regis closed the journal carefully and stared at his son until he began to squirm. Then he grabbed him in a gentle headlock and noogied him into quietly protesting. "What was that for?!" He demanded, looking like an angry kitten.

"Nothing, you just have the world's oddest luck is all." Regis began ticking off examples with fingers raised. "You get offered a chance to change the fate of another universe, but only remember after being kidnapped. You almost get sacrificed to an Astral but come out with superpowers and permission to call said Astral–the one known to be the most temperamental, even–Great Aunt. You find forgotten knowledge–Family Histories included–like most people find a coin on a sidewalk." He cocked an eyebrow at his eldest. "Need I go on?"

"No," Noctis grumbled, "I get your point."

"Good." Then he ruffled his hair, just to see the pissed off kitten look again. "Never change, Nightlight. The world would be much poorer for it, if you did." 

The rest of the night was then spent pouring over the journals and the beginnings of Noct’s List of Differences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Nada


	10. Of New Rules and New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a plan of attack is made and a future Kingsglaive is met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm finally getting the hang of tenses!
> 
> Translations at the bottom as well as some notes.
> 
> Again, not beta'd because _**We Die like Lucii**_
> 
>   
**EDIT 4/29/2020 - ** Apparently, we _do not_ die like Lucii, because this had been beta'd by notesoftruth. Also, I changed a certain someone's name because the previous one was something that couldn't be accepted by FFXV Comrades Character Naming Standards, and therefore was nothing I wanted to be named after. The new one means the same as the last, with an added bonus! 
> 
>   
**Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> Mentions of a flashback and for sending a child to do a adult's job. If there's any others that I missed, feel free to tell me.

Noct felt, dare he say it?  _ Refreshed _ after the reveal all his entire family had last week and then laughed as he remembered the blackma–ahem, please excuse him, family secrets he learned.

“And what has you giggling so, little Nightlight?”  _ Think of the devil and he shall appear _ . Noct spun around and launched himself into his Dad's waiting arms. “Well, someone is certainly energetic this evening!”

“I am! I am! Me me me!” Okay, so he might have had a  _ bit too _ much sugar than was strictly necessary, but he really couldn’t help it! Those tarts were just begging to be eaten.

Dad rolled his eyes. “You know, for someone who is supposedly thirty years old, you certainly do not act like it.” Noct only dignified that with a razzberry. “Case in point. Anyway, you never answered my question.” Oh, right.

“Just remembering story time last week.” Noct smirked when Dad turned bright red and had to clear his throat a couple of times to actually get his voice to sound normal.

“Keep that up, and I am not letting you go to the Immigrant District.” Noct let his jaw drop.

“But daaaaad.” He whined, but Dad only raised an eyebrow. “Urgh, fiiiine.”

** _\---_ **

Dad laid down some ground rules for any extended time spent away from the Citadel:

  * Rule No. 1: He was never to reveal his identity, no exceptions.
  * Rule No. 2: He was never to leave the district, no exceptions.
  * Rule No. 3: He was to keep his cellphone and a knife on hand at all times, no exceptions.
  * If any of the above rules are broken, even once, there would be no leaving the Citadel alone until he was eighteen. _No exceptions_.

By the end of the admittedly short list of three rules and one single consequence, he was fired up and raring to go. He bounced around his room, filling his favorite backpack with a couple of changes of clothing, a blanket, a pillow, a few protein bars, a metal water bottle full of water, and stashed more of the above into the armiger. Once he was sure that he had everything he needed, he ran back to his Dad's office.

Dad looked like he regretted his life up to this point as he leaned over his desk. “I have no idea who let you have so much sugar, but  _ that  _ investigation will have to be held at a later date.” He sighed, then narrowed his eyes and pointed at Noct menacingly. “I am trusting you to follow the rules to the letter because I am not kidding about the permanent grounding, young man. Break just one of those rules and you will not take a  _ single _ step outside this Citadel, without a guard, for the next ten years. So help me gods  _ I will do it, too _ .”

“Dad, I know you're nervous about letting your heir run around unsupervised.” He began before he was interrupted.

“Noctis, I am sending you, my  _ eight year old son _ –even though said child is actually older than I am at this point–off to spend who knows  _ how _ long in a district known for some questionable things just because he could  _ possibly _ blend in better than most of my spies. Nervous doesn’t even  _ begin _ to describe what I’m feeling right now. In fact, let’s not do this. Let someone else get murdered to death because…”

He let Dad rant away for a few minutes, before giving into temptation (not that he tried  _ too _ hard to resist) and attempted to hug the anxiety out of the older man. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into Dad’s side when the adult finally ran out of steam.

“Not your fault, nightlight.” Dad heaved a sigh. “I never did handle my loved ones being in dangerous situations well.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” _Sweet Six! _They both jumped about a foot into the air when Uncle Clarus spoke up from out of _fucking_ _nowhere_. What was it with Amicitias and moving too quietly for their own damn good?! His dad’s Shield cocked an eyebrow at them and smirked. “Hmmm... more situational awareness training, I think. Sometime in the near future, perhaps?” Dad groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes, dragging it down to rest over his mouth.

“Yes, Clarus. I’ll put it on my schedule. Somewhere in between finally finishing that book on Early Accordo Politics Wesk gave me years ago and inviting Aldercapt for tea to finalize Insomnia's Surrender.” Dad rolled his eyes and Noct snickered.

“How rude, it was only a suggestion.” Uncle Clarus sniffed haughtily and that just set Dad off like a bottle rocket.

“Sorry I'm late.” Mom said as she swept through the open door. “Lunaris didn’t want ta settle down for her nap.”

“It's fine dear heart, you didn’t miss anything.” Dad spoke up from where he was glaring at his brother. Mom took one look at the pair and then switched her gaze over to him for an explanation, eyebrow up somewhere near her hairline.

“Uncle Clarus said that we need more situational awareness training and Dad said that he’ll put it in his schedule in between reading a boring book and inviting the Emperor to tea and it kinda devolved from there.” He giggled.

“Ah.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head and muttered about banging some heads together. Then she switched attention from the arguing “knuckleheads” (her words, not his) to him. He tried not to fidget as her eyes swept over him from top to bottom, but he didn’t think he succeeded. “Hmm.” That noise did not inspire any kind of confidence in him, Mom, please stop. Something must have shown on his face, however, because his mom’s eyes softened and she knelt in front of him. “Ya’ll be fine, Noct. Especially…” she trailed off with a smirk, dragging it out before continuing, “with  _ these _ in hand.” And with a flourish, pulled two daggers from her Armiger.

He looked from the daggers to his mother, back again and Mom laughed, motioning for him to take them. He did, examining them one at a time with an experienced eye. The first dagger was red and gold, with a ruby-eyed and snarling lion on the guard, while the other one was blue and silver, with a stylized guard centered around a hemisphere sapphire. He stared at them and hazard a guess that these daggers symbolized (or maybe even belonged to at one point) Ifrit and Shiva.

Mom tapped a finger against Shiva’s dagger and explained, “This one’s called Diamond Dust, while the other's Hellfire.”  _ Called it. _ “They were given ta me by my da, who got them from his muther who got them from her muther an’ so on an’ so forth. Accordin’ ta family history, these daggers have been passed down through parent an’ child ever since the  _ very _ beginnin’ of our family. Which, if yur sources were ta be believed is the child of Shiva an’ Ifrit, though ‘twould certainly explain the style an’ the names, wouldn’t it?” Mom laughed and shook her head.

“Anyway, they can also somehow change inta swords, but no one has been able ta do that in a very long time.”  _ What. _ In the face of his sheer disbelief, Mom offered “Magic daggers?” with a shrug. “We can summon the harmony of fire, ice an’ lightnin’ to the palm of our hands an’  _ this _ is what trips ya up?” That… was... a very valid point and he conceded the argument with a theatrical bow.

Mom snorted, giving him a pat on the head and turned to stare at the still arguing pair of so-called ‘adults’. They had actually progressed from simply glaring at each other to an all out insult war, with his uncle pulling out some really nice inventive ones, and Mom just watched them with a fond look in her eyes. After a particular zinger had his father gasping dramatically like he had been slapped with a fish, she shook her head and said under her breath, “How Clarus is ever seen as a humorless stick-in-the-mud, I will never understand.” She started forward and waved a hand. “Okay, ya two, break it up. Ya’ve had yur fun, now it’s time ta bring out the serious faces.”

“Aww, but Aulea…” Dad whined playfully and got lightly smacked for his troubles, while Clarus just got plain smacked for snickering.

“Ya’re both grown ass men, have some decorum.”

“Yes, dear.” Dad simpered and his uncle made a whipping noise under his breath, but a single glare from Mom had him quailing in his boots.

“Ya’re the worst.”

“We may be the worst, but admit it, you would be bored without us.” Uncle Clarus waggled his eyebrows in a way that had Mom laughing helplessly and Dad grinning like a fool.

Noct felt like joining in on the teasing, but was hit by a blond missile before he could even open his mouth. “How is it,” he demanded as the adults, including the newly arrived Cor, laughed, “that  _ every _ time I see you, I end up on the floor?”

“Because you’re very huggable and I can’t help myself?” His soon-to-be-ex-best friend ventured hopefully, but wilted like a dying flower at Noct’s glare. He kept the glare up as long as he could, but unfortunately, Prompto had upgraded his sad chocobo chick eyes recently and Noct was  _ so _ very weak.

“Fiiiiiiiiine.” He groaned and, once Prompto got off of him, sat up. “One day, that look is  _ not _ going to work and then  _ I _ will have the last laugh.” He said as he rubbed the back of his head with one eye closed in concentration.

“But today is not that day,” Prompto tapped his chin thoughtfully, “and tomorrow doesn't look that good either, come to think of it.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The blond stuck his tongue out, “Make me!”

Before Noct could make his friend eat those words, a low “Boys…” from his mother had them turning absolutely  _ angelic _ eyes towards her very much unimpressed face. She kept it up until they were suitably cowed and sighed, letting them off the hook. “Noct, do ya know what ya’re goin’ ta be lookin’ like?”

“Yeah!” He shifted into a slightly older red haired girl with amber eyes and smiled, letting Mo’'s accent influence his words. “I thought that the gender change might throw people off when the different color scheme couldn't.”

He yelped as Mom bent down and pinched his cheeks. “Awww, well aren’t ya cute. Too cute ta be goin’ out alone, even.”

“Ma!”

“Oh, don’t ya mind me much.” Mom said as she began poking and prodding him.

“Da, make her stop!” He pleaded and pouted angrily when the man only laughed at him.

“As much as I find this funny,” Uncle Cor began, sounding actually regretful, “Can we get back to the reason that this is all necessary in the first place, please?”

“Very well.” Dad nodded and ambled over to his desk. ‘Lately, we’ve been receiving some reports of unrest throughout this city. It feels like we’re currently standing on the edge of something terrible and we need to figure out what that thing is before we fall.” Here, Dad paused and Noct stood at attention almost unconsciously, body reacting faster than his conscious mind to the commanding presence his dad suddenly radiated. “Aulea, you and Clarus are going to be my eyes and ears amongst the Nobles. Report anything of interest, anything at all, even the smallest thing could be a clue. Cor, you will be doing the same with the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive, while Prompto,” Dad kneeled in front of his best friend.

“You are going to make friends with the Noble children while Noct is away. Sometimes, adults will say things around kids that they normally wouldn’t around other adults. Mostly because they think kids these days are deaf, blind and stupid. Your job is to gather what those kids say and bring it back to me, can you do that?” Prompto snapped off a near perfect salute that almost brought a tear to one’s eye and Noct watched with a tiny smile as Cor placed a proud hand on his son’s head. The smile faded, however, as Dad turned to him. “Noctis.”

“Sir.”

“You are the most important piece yet. We need you in the Immigrant District because whatever it is that is happening, it’s happening  _ because _ of that district. Your orders are to keep watch and report back to me any suspicious behavior seen. Do you have any questions?”

“No, sir.” Dad nodded, clearly pleased, and looked over the others.

“You all have your orders. Now let’s see if we can’t figure this out by Noct’s birthday, hmm?”

_ **\---** _

“Dad, I’ll be fine.” He reassured his upset and pacing father for the  _ umpteenth _ time. “What happened to the faith you had in me not even ten minutes ago?”

“Oh, it’s still there. It’s my faith in the Universe that disappeared. What if something happens to you? Oh, gods.” Dad honest-to-Ramuh  _ whimpered _ . “You’re only eight–thirty–whatever, and here I am, letting you out loose into danger. Oh, I am such a bad parent.” Dad continued his fretting and Noct rolled his eyes, because  _ here we go again _ .

“Dad, trust in me. I. Will. Be. Fine.” He punctuated each word with a hard poke to his Dad’s leg. “And don’t call yourself a bad parent. Because you’re  _ definitely _ not one. You know, and I know, that unless there is another shapeshifter around here that I don’t know about, I am the only one who can blend in well enough to gather evidence without being recognized by some random passerby.” Noct gave him as tight a hug as he could manage with his current strength and whispered, “You are an  _ amazing _ parent, Dad. You just needed to be an even better king at this point in time.” Dad sniffed and let out a wet sounding laugh.

“Maybe we should be calling  _ you _ the parent, oh Wise One.” Dad joked as he wiped at his eyes.

“’M not wise,” he denied tiredly, and why was it whenever he hugged his dad with the intent to make the older man feel better,  _ Noct _ was the one feeling twice his age? He groaned and flopped on the nearest surface, which just so happened to be the object of his thoughts. “Tiiiiiired.” He whined and let his Dad's heartbeat lull him further into sleep.

“Come, my little Nightlight.” He didn’t move as Dad picked him up princess style and carried him off towards his bedroom. “You don’t have to leave until nightfall and a nap most certainly wouldn’t go amiss.”

_ **\---** _

_ The sun can go die a horrible and painful death _ , Noct decided as dawn tried to force its way through his eyelids. He turned around to get away from it and succeeded only in falling off the ledge he had found to sleep on. He laid there facedown on the ground, contemplating life, and really hoped that this wasn't an omen of some sort.

Flipping over, he thought back to last night and retraced his steps. He remembered waking up from his nap and kissing the family goodbye. He remembered ninja-ing (that is  _ too _ a word, shut up Prompto) his way through the Citadel, careful to avoid getting detected and finally reaching an old unseen servant entrance–which he really needed to tell someone about, now that he thought about it. He remembered slipping through the streets until he reached the right District and lastly, he remembered finding this place and falling asleep.

“Now what should I do?” He mumbled to himself, not expecting an answer back so it was kinda understandable when an unexpected voice had him jumping up and spinning around, knife in hand and teeth bared, to face its owner. Suddenly, the sun he was complaining about was gone and he was once again facing Ardyn on the ruined streets of Insomnia.

* * *

“Are ya okaaaaand ya can’t hear me.” He deadpanned when the little ginger’s amber eyes glazed over, not seeing or hearing anything but the flashback she was trapped in. Then she suddenly charged him and had him swearing enough that if his mother was still alive, she would be coming after him with a bar of soap. He dodged the wild swings until he managed to get behind her and wrap her up into a bear hug, restricting her movements and holy shit the kid hated that because she went  _ ballistic _ , dropping her knife with a shriek of rage and instead started fighting to get away.

“Kid, ki–Fuck!” He swore again when sharp little teeth and nails tore into his arm, drawing blood.  _ The hell’s she, part daemon? _ He grit his teeth as a bony elbow popped one right in the balls. Ow. “Whatever ya seein’, it isn’t there! C’mon kid, snap out o’ it!”

Her struggles continued, this time with kicking, not just biting and scratching, though he took care of that easily enough by sitting down and tangling their legs together. Five minutes later and she  _ still _ showed no signs of stopping and he was at a loss of what to do. Finally, he just snapped out a harsh  _ ‘Lig fút!’ _ , having lost the ability to speak Lucian in his frustrated state.

She froze, and that had him weakening his grip because he was not expecting a simple  _ calm down _ to stop her flailing, especially when said in another language. Thankfully, she didn’t take the chance to escape, which meant she had snapped out of the flashback, maybe? He hoped so, because his arms had started to hurt and he  _ really _ wanted a drink, nevermind that the day had only just started. He deserved one, dammit!

_ “Ní labhraíonn Ardyn gaeilge…” _ She muttered under her breath and he vaguely wondered who the hell Ardyn was and what not speaking Gaeilge had to do with anything. Then the actual words she used registered and he blinked in surprise. He honestly thought he would never hear another speak Gaeilge again, not after his dad died last year.

He watched as she moved her head around, probably looking at her surroundings. “Not again,” She groaned and then twisted her neck to look up at him, asking, “How long was I out of it for?” in a subdued voice.

He grunted, “’Bout ten minutes or so,” and winced as she scrambled off his legs. His entire body felt like one big bruise and he gingerly stood up once he was free.  _ Sweet Six _ that girl could pack a punch. Made him wonder again about that Ardyn guy.

_ “Mo déithe.” _ He looked up at her horrified whisper, eyebrows raised, and found her staring at his bloody arms.  _ “Tá brom orm!” _ She said and burst into hysterical tears.  _ Not this again, please no more. I can't take any more of this. _ He thought while she repeated that sentence so much it blurred together. He reluctantly patted her on the head and she took that as an invitation to throw her arms around him.  _ Great, just… great. _ He sighed and let her hold onto him until she calmed down again.  _ This is how I imagined my day going not at all. _

“’Sall right. My fault for startlin’ ya ‘n sendin’ ya into a flashback. There there.” He kept patting her until her sobs slowed to a stop. “Ya done, kid?” he asked when she pulled back, sniffing and rubbing at her eyes. The kid nodded and he sighed again, this time at her snot and tear stained face. Since when did he become his grandmother, he wondered faintly as he took out a bandana and held it up to her nose. “Blow,” he ordered and she did just that, giggling wetly at the disgusted face he pulled.

“Brat.” Oh  _ no _ , that came out way more fond than it was supposed to. He knew he had a tendency to hoard people, but usually that didn’t happen this quickly. He stared down at her and mentally shrugged.  _ Oh well, she's mine now. Her parents can have her on the weekends, if she has any that is. _

The kid looked up–_No, stop that, you are a badass 23 year old and you don’t_ _pinch cheeks, no matter _how_ cute the kid is_–and asked, “Can I know the name of my knight in shiny armor, Mister?”

He snorted. Him, a knight? Oh  _ hell _ no. “’M not a knight, kid. The name’s Titus, Titus Drautos.”

Noct was sure that he made some kind of noise as he stared at the younger version of the man who killed his family and caused the Crown City to fall. He stared and stared and felt like he should be doing  _ something  _ other than staring, that he should be feeling angry, but instead, he just felt  _ sad _ . He felt  _ sorry _ for the man whose only thought was for his people, who turned traitor only because he feared that they would be lost and forgotten.

He bowed his head to hide his expression and made a decision. The Titus Drautos of his past was not this one. The Titus that stood before him had bled for him, helped him, and that meant the man was his now. And  _ nothing _ was ever going to change that he swore as he looked up and smiled toothily at the older man.

“Nice ta meetcha, Mr. Titus! My name’s Nacia, thanks for helpin’ me out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Titus has appeared! I said we would be meeting a Kingsglaive and we did! Just not the one y'all were maybe thinking it was gonna be.
> 
> About Noct's Pseudonym - according to one website, it means "Fiery, ardent" which I thought fit perfectly. Also ardent, Ardyn. Ayyyy *fingerguns*
> 
> I think I'm funny, but I'm really not. Anyway, ignore me.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** Nacia is also short for Ignacia which is the female version of Ignacio, which brings us to a nice little homage to Ignis.
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
> _Lig fút!_ \- Calm down!  
_Ní labhraíonn Ardyn gaeilge…_ \- Ardyn doesn't speak Gaeilge...  
_Mo déithe._ \- My gods.  
_Tá brom orm!_ \- I'm sorry!
> 
> I _could_ be wrong about that first one, by the way, so don't be taking that translation worth anything more than a grain of salt.
> 
> Until next time! Slán! (**Goodbye!**)


	11. Of Identities and Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Noctis is never leaving the Citadel ever again and a realization is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can finally add the tag that I wanted to! Huzzah.
> 
> **EDIT 4/29/2020 -** beta'd by notesoftruth
> 
> **Trigger Warnings:**
> 
> A Probably Poorly Written Panic Attack and A Most Likely Non-Realistic Coping Method. 
> 
> Again, if i missed anything triggering, drop a comment and I'll add it to the list.

After stopping by a pharmacy to get some bandages, painkillers and antibacterial stuff, they found a park and settled down among the greenery. It was then that Nacia belatedly realized that he could have been horrifically murdered by following this guy, though he  _ did _ help a kid through a flashback without doing something awful, so Nacia mentally shrugged and just focused on finishing the candy bar Titus had offered.

“A’right, kid, ya wanna tell me what  _ that _ was about?” Titus had apparently finished cleaning himself up and, when Nacia turned to look at him, was staring at him with a questioning eyebrow.

He stuck his tongue out, “Sorry, yur friendship level ain’t high enough ta unlock my tragic backstory. Please try yur luck again tomorrow.” Titus snorted hard enough he almost choked.

“S’pose I deserved that one.” He laughed and Nacia watched him out of the corner of his eye. Objectively, he knew that Titus was the one that killed his dad, and Luna’s mom now that he thought about it, but he couldn’t connect the carefree man laying on his back and enjoying the sunshine to the dreaded General Glauca or even the bitter Kingsglaive Captain of his memories. He pondered that for a while, then decided it was too nice a day for sad thoughts and flopped onto the grass.

The silence was broken by Titus sighing not even five minutes later. “‘M gonna have ta ask one thing, though.” Nacia hummed, which he must have taken that as a go ahead because he asked, “Where’re ya parents? I mean, ya were sleepin’ on a ledge for Ramuh's sake!” He thought about saying Nacia was an orphan, but felt his mind balk at the idea. _No _thank_ you._ Instead, he muttered something about having a fight over something stupid and then running away to cool down.

Eyes still closed against the sun, Nacia felt an assessing stare and heard another sigh, this one heavy with… was that  _ remorse _ ? "Kid, let me give ya some a’vice: never let ya temper get the best o' ya, 'specially when it comes ta ya loved ones.” He opened his eyes to stare at Titus, the man sprawled on the ground beside him with distant eyes as he stared at something only he could see. “One day, ya might say somethin' that ya'll regret, 'n ya won't ever be able to take it back. Trust me on that."

And Nacia very much did so, because Titus sounded like he was lost in some not so good memories. Feeling the need to do something for him, Nacia rolled over to curl up on his chest, ignoring the way Titus stiffen slightly before heaving a sigh and hesitantly beginning to card shaky fingers through his hair.

"I talked ta him before I fell asleep on tha' ledge. Apologized an' everythin'." Nacia slurred and covered a yawn, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Why was he so tired all of the sudden? Well, he did just go through a flashback, so maybe it was just the exhaustion finally hitting him? He mentally shrugged, didn't matter anyway _ . _ "Told Da I wasn' gonna be back for a coupla days, 'cuz I wanted ta figure out why people were so antsy abou' this district an' he said he would le' me if I found somewhere ta hunker down. So," he cracked a sliver of an eye open and asked with a tiny smile, "Can I stay wit ya?" The hand on his head paused, likely in shock, before resuming its course.

"Ya'd trust a man ya just met, one right off the streets?" Titus sounded incredulous, not that Nacia really blamed him, but he also  _ really _ didn't want to spend another night out in the open. He pouted and tried to pull off Prompto's Chocobo Chick face that probably didn't work for him because he wasn't the human version of one.

"Ya saved me, didn' ya? I feel like tha' gives me a pretty good idea abou' what kinda guy ya are."

"'M also the one who caused ya ta be needin' savin' in the first place." Titus countered wryly and Nacia groaned. Check and mate.  _ Dammit _ .

He blew a razzberry and tried again, "Meh, semantics" which failed miserably.

"Ooh, big word there." Titus teased, "ya sure ya know what it means?" Nacia grumbled at him, which the asshat had the nerve to only laugh at. "A'right a'right, 'm sorry 'm sorry!" Nacia pouted and burrowed deeper into the surprisingly comfortable chest he was laying on, listening to the man's voice vibrating through muscle and bone. "'N yeah, ya can stay. Long as ya don't mind sleepin' on the couch. Oh, 'n snakes."

Did he just say...  _ snakes _ ?

** _\---_ **

"Oh Em Gee, he's so cool!" Nacia was pretty sure he had stars in his eyes as he stared at the snake slithering around him, and Nacia just had to boop him on the nose. Then he had to supress a snort, because he had never seen a more human expression of 'what the fuck' on an animal before and it was  _ glorious _ . "What's his name?"

"Jörmungandr." Said snake's owner sounded like he was barely holding back a laugh, but Nacia was having  _ way _ too fun to look at him and find out for real. "Her name's Jörmungandr 'n she's a female Burmese python."

"Yor-mun-gan-ther." Nacia sounded out carefully and was rewarded by Jörmungandr turning her head towards him. "I think I'm goin' ta call ya Jor." He nodded decisively and was repaid with a return nose boop by Jor's tail. It was then that Titus finally lost the fight against his mirth and spent the next ten minutes fighting for the right to breathe.

"Holy Ramuh." Titus wheezed, "This whole situation is fuckin' ridiculous." He had ended up leaning against a wall during his fit of hysterics, and there he would stay, Nacia figured, until he regained his bearings. "Have ta say though, never seen Jörmungandr take ta someone so quickly afore." It was said with a faint note of surprise in his voice as the python settled down to sleep in Nacia's lap.

He thought of all the animals that had followed him around at one point or another–in  _ both _ lifetimes–and shrugged. "Guess animals just like me for some reason."

"Well, animals  _ are _ known ta be good judges o' character, could also be that." Titus pointed out and Nacia felt his face heat, shooting a glare at Titus when the man snickered.

"Shut up, ya jerk." Hands raised in mock surrender, Titus backed away and headed towards the back of the apartment, coming back with a pile of blankets and pillows. Nacia watched as he spread them out on the couch, absently patting Jor's head and zoned out.

"Well it ain't the Leville, but it'll do." He zoned back in at Titus' words and gawked at the veritable  _ nest _ laid out before him.

"Here, have Jor back." He heaved the sleeping python back towards her owner carefully and dived right in. He pawed at the blankets until they were  _ just _ right and pulled the heaviest one over his head, blinking up when Titus snorted.

“Or maybe the reason animals like ya, is 'cause ya  _ are _ one.” The man smirked. “Mentally, at least." Nacia just offered him a nice view of his tongue, getting him to snort-choke again. Titus ruffled his hair then left to presumably put Jor back in her tank, coming back to settle down on a nearby recliner. "Now," Nacia straightened, why oh why did that single word fill him with dread? "Ya said that ya wanted ta figure out why people're so 'antsy' 'bout us immigrants."

"Yeah?" He asked warily, and he wasn’t  _ exactly _ sure why alarm bells were loudly going off in his head, so he tried not to fidget as Titus watched him from beneath hooded eyes. Maybe this...  _ wasn't _ such a good idea… He could just hear Other!Gladio now, ‘Ya think, Princess?’

Titus leaned forward, arms braced on his knees.

"What's interestin', I think, is ya actually  _ knew _ 'bout this. 'Cuz I know for a  _ fact _ that no one is talkin' to outsiders 'bout this little problem. So, since I've never  _ once _ seen ya face 'round here before, 'm wonderin' how ya found out." Nacia swallowed nervously as the man continued to stare at him. "Well?"

He considered his options carefully. Option 1: tell Titus who he really was and risk not leaving the Citadel until he was of age,  _ as well as _ incurring Dad's wrath. Or... Option 2: tell Titus everything and hope that the man doesn't do anything rash, like hold him hostage and demand a ransom? Shit. Choices, choices. He dithered for a moment and...  _ Oh fuck it, what Dad doesn't know won't hurt him, right? _

Nacia shifted back to his base form and straightened his spine. Calling upon  _ every single scrap _ of propriety Iggy had forced on him in the old universe he stated, "My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum and my father has sent me, to which he under protest I would like to add, to figure out why so many people have been up in arms about Immigration."

Titus could honestly say he was not expecting that. He thought the kid was a spy for one of the gangs or something so he will admit to staring like an idiot at the little eight year old Crown Prince of Lucis, sitting pretty as you please on his couch, where an eleven year old girl once sat. "How the fuck–?" He sputtered out and the Prince grinned, all previous sense of nobility lost as this legitimate _child_–oh gods, that means this- this- this _infant_ suffered enough that he had _fucking_ _flashbacks, _sweet Shiva's_ Tits_–scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Yeah, I can shapeshift. Which is kinda the only reason Dad let me come, and I kinda just broke a rule telling you who I actually am and Dad's not gonna let me leave the Citadel until I'm eighteen, which is  _ ages _ away! I'm gonna get so  _ boooooored! _ And–" Titus couldn't take any more and raised a hand to cut the babbling short.

"You tellin' me, that ya Da,  _ the Great King of Lucis _ , sent  _ you _ ,  _ an eight year old kid _ , ta scope out a potentially dangerous situation?!" He was enraged at the thought that King Regis, a man many people lauded as a kind and generous monarch, would send his  _ young son _ to figure this out when he should've sent a fucking spy instead. He noticed Noctis' eyes narrow, but didn't pay it any attention until the kid changed,  _ again _ , but this time into a fully grown adult with more than a passing resemblance to the king.

"For your information, Titus Drautos," the other man growled deeply and Titus felt himself shrink back in fear, "When I shapeshift into an age, I gain that age's maturity, as well as a decent amount of knowledge. So do _ not _ ," Noctis hissed harshly and jabbed a pointed finger in his direction, "place the blame of sending a child to do an adult's job on my father. I already had  _ enough _ problems trying to convince him to let me do this–probably for the  _ exact _ same reason why you're angry right this instant–to have rumors of child endangerment being added to his fictional rap sheet. Are we clear?"

Titus felt…  _ something  _ building in the air as Noctis stood up to tower over him. Titus vaguely registered he was trembling. "I asked you a question." The Crown Prince leaned in closer. "Are. We.  _ Clear? _ "

"Very." He managed to squeak out. Noctis smiled genially as he sat back down and shifted back into the kid Titus had helped not even a couple of hours ago– _ was it really only noon?! _

"Good, I woulda hated for somethin' ta happen ta ya." Titus had to swallow harshly because that should  _ not _ have sounded so threatening, especially coming from a preteen.

Nacia felt bad for scaring Titus, he really truly did, but he loved Dad  _ way _ more than he did his new friend. The way the man had spoken about his dad made his blood boil. Didn't people realize how  _ hard _ it was to balance being a good man and being a good king? He glared at Titus for a good long minute before turning his back on him.

There was silence for about five minutes, before Nacia heard a sigh and Titus began to speak. "'M sorry for insultin' ya Da, but please see it from my perspective. A teeny-bopper little girl turned inta the fuckin' Crown Prince and said that he was ordered by his king ta find out why people're actin' so outta sorts 'bout us. His king who is also his father?" Another sigh and creaking furniture had Nacia turning his head to peek over his shoulder, watching Titus shift uncomfortably, before returning to his stare down against the back of the couch.

"Before I left," Nacia began softly, "I hugged my dad. I hugged my dad an' had ta tell him, point blank, that he wasn't a bad father just because he had ta be a better king. All this because he had ta choose between usin' the perfect tool for the job or keepin' his eldest out of the line of fire." He turned over again, fully this time, and stared at the quiet man in front of him.

"What ya people don't get is… that in order ta be a good ruler, sometimes–sometimes ya have ta cross those lines an' make yourself a bad person."

He thought of his dad, learning that his son was the king chosen to beat back the scourge.

"Turn yaself inta a terrible parent."

His dad doing nothing but raising the Chosen King for the slaughter. Nacia blinked slowly then thought of his 'Glaives.

"Or a lousy friend."

Prom, Iggy and Gladio, all of them waiting on him for ten long years, having to fight through that darkness and despair and death just for a chance to see him, and the sun, again.

"An' sometimes, ya have ta sacrifice things ya don't want ta, for hope of a better future for everyone else."

His father again, sending his wayward son away with a smile, knowing that he wouldn't be seeing him again, not while he still lived anyway.

"That the needs of the many always outweigh the needs of the few."

He swallowed, remembering his friends' faces as he told them that he had to die to bring back that sun.

"Or even the one.

"So please," he begged, moisture beginning to gather under her lashes, "Please don't judge my Dad ta harshly for somethin' he didn't want ta do in the first place. If anything, judge me for putting him in that position, for beggin' him ta let me do this, ta let me help. Just… please." And let those tears fall, not being able to do anything else.

Titus stared at the crying kid and wondered. Wondered how long she–he?–had that on his–her?–chest as he gathered him her–_them_–into his arms and let them sob in his shirt. _Titus Drautos, the scourge o' his enemies, brought low by a cryin' kid,_ he smirked sadly. He held on until they fell asleep and then gently wiped their cheeks, tucking them back into their little nest as soon as they were dry once more.

Then he noticed something strange.  _ Where was the pain? _ His arms should've been on fire, especially since the kid was none too gently pawing at them not even two minutes ago, but they weren't. So Titus began to unwrap the bandages and then gawked in absolute shock at his perfectly healed arms. As in not one single scab, scar or open wound remained from what he had been sure was going to be one hell of a story to tell.

He looked over his shoulder at the sleeping kid and wondered, yet again, what the fuck he had gotten himself into.

* * *

It was the smell of bacon that woke her up, just like Iggy used to make, so excuse her for thinking that she was still 20 and on her way to Altissia for her wedding. She groaned, rolled over, and fell off the place she slept,  _ again _ .

"Ya've gotta stop doin' that, kid." Titus laughed, like the complete asshat he was, as he poked his head out from the kitchen. "Ya body ain't gonna thank ya for it when ya older."

_ "Fuck off." _ She growled as she stood up and the man let out a stunned whistle.

"Hoo, ya kiss ya Queen Mother with that mouth?" And with that, last night's memories came back with a vengeance.

"Shit."

"I'll take that as a yes. By the by, ya’ve slept for a good 24 hours, kid, so I hope ya're hungry."

Nacia groaned and let her grumbling stomach answer that stupid question. "Dad's ne’er gonna lemme leave the Citadel." She dragged that last word out in a whine as she staggered into the kitchen and dropped into an empty seat. Head thunking onto the table, she rolled it to the side to watch as Titus put two plates full of pancakes, eggs and bacon on the wooden surface.

"Ya mentioned that last night, actually, and I was wonderin' if that was a punishment o' some sort." The man sat down in the chair across from her, and dug in. Something was missing in this picture but, quite frankly, Nacia could care less about other things that weren't food right at this moment. “Oh, ‘n before I forget!” At Titus’ interjection, she looked up and blinked tiredly at the man. “What’re ya preferred pronouns? I’ve been referin’ to ya as ‘they’ in m’head.”

The question circled around her head a few times before it finally sunk in and Nacia offered a groggy smile. “Ya ken call me she an’ her while ‘m Nacia, don’ really care either way. I don’ think tha’ most shapeshifter’s really...  _ get _ genders, ta be honest.” Though, now that she thought about it, she's been referring to herself as female since waking up, hasn't she? Hmm… She offered a shrug both at her thoughts and at Titus’ raised eyebrow before returning to her breakfast. Food now, preferred gender freak-out later.

“And as for yur first question, yeah Da said that if I broke any of the rules he set down before I left, that I would not, an’ I quote ‘take a  _ single _ step out of this Citadel, without a guard, for the next ten years. So help me gods  _ I will do it too. _ ’” Titus’ chair flew back with a screech, probably because he wasn’t expecting the king’s voice to sound from a little girl's throat.

Silence ensued as they stared at each other, before Titus cleared his throat and moved his chair back to its starting position. “Shapeshifter, huh?”

“Yup. Not just for changin' the body.” She shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth, and had to blink back a few tears, because not only did it smell like Iggy’s cooking, it tasted like it too. Thus began her vacuum imitation. “Holy shit this is good!” she praised around a mouthful of egg, it probably didn’t sound like it, but whatever.

Titus’ eyebrow reached new heights, “Ya know, for someone raised as royalty, ya have some shit manners kid.”

Nacia rolled her eyes as she munched on some bacon, “That’s ‘cus ‘m stockpilin’ them for when they actually matter.”

“‘Are ya sayin’ I don’t matter?” Titus demanded playfully.

“Yup.” She deadpanned.

That earned her a baleful glare, “Now that was just mean, kid.”

Nacia giggled maniacally.

Titus sighed, and was that a touch of  _ fondness _ she just heard? “Finish ya damn food, we got shit to talk about.” And the rest of breakfast passed in amicable silence.

_ **\---** _

After the food was gone, Titus began washing dishes and roped Nacia into drying. (”You’re lucky ya aint doin’ both.” Titus had said when she complained, which made her shut up rather quickly and grab a dish cloth.) A few minutes passed, before she looked over at Titus elbow deep in water and  _ wait a minute _ –

“That’s what was missing!” she blurted out, then covered her mouth when Titus dropped a plate back into the sink with a clunk. “Oops.” She hiked her shoulders up around her ears and poked her pointer fingers together as she avoided Titus’ glare of death. Nacia’s eyes flickered between the floor and that truly terrifying gaze, and she, uh, finally understood why the Kingsglaives were reluctant to really anger their captain, if this is what they had to deal with. She offered him a sheepish smile and Titus kept the glare up for a few seconds before rolling his eyes.

“Ya're lucky that didn’t break.” He reached into the soapy water and pulled out the intact plate, scrubbed it, rinsed it, then gave it to her with a raised eyebrow. “You were sayin’? About somethin’ missin’?”

“Oh, yeah! Ya arms didn’t have bandages, how did they heal so fast? Did ya have a potion, or somethin’?” There was a pause, wherein Titus stared at her with incomprehension, and now Nacia felt like she was the one missing something. “Why are ya starin’ at me like that?”

“ _ Ya're _ the one who healed me kid.”

“But - but - I don’t…I can’t? The Lucis Caelum are known for their Black Magic, the Nox Fleuret are the ones with White Magics!”

“Isn’t ya're foundin’ king called the Healer?”

“Yeah, but none of the Lucis Caelum Line inherited his healing gift, not even his daughter, Vita the Great!”

“Well, now there’s  _ one _ Lucis Caelum who did.”

“But I’ve never healed... anyone… before…” Nacia petered off as she remembered all the times she was suddenly inexplicably tired and the person he was near, usually her dad, felt 1000% better. “Oh,” she muttered, soft with realization. “My da,” was added when Titus looked at her questionly.

“As I said last night, runnin’ a kingdom is taxing, not ta mention holdin’ up the wall is drainin’ what little strength that politickin’ doesn’t eat away. So Da, even though he’s 27, sometimes moves like he’s forty an’ whenever he starts movin’ like that I hug him. Then I feel tired an’ Da doesn’t an’ he finally acts his age an’–an’–an’...” Oh, lovely, she can’t breath.

“-id, kid!” Nacia looked up into Titus’ concerned eyes. “Can ya match my breathin’, kid?” She shook her head. Titus gently grabbed her hand, gently placing it on his chest and started breathing carefully. “Match my breaths, in two three four, hold, out two three four, in two three four, hold, out two three four.”

She tried to follow the cadence and had little success until about 5 minutes later, when she had focused enough on Titus’ voice to block out everything else. “Ya good?” Nacia nodded and they laid on the floor for a good five minutes more before Nacia spoke up.

“I think goin’ crazy on someone multiple times in two days is grounds for adoption. Congratz, I’m callin’ ya Uncle Titus from now on.”

“That’s fair. Welcome to the family, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh... what could go here... Aha! if you also like Skyrim, I'm about to publish a crossover regarding a Dovahkiin Noct as soon as I'm done with this, so... enjoy?
> 
> Also, for some reason, Julie Andrews' "Getting to Know You" from the _King and I_ popped into my head as I was fixing to publish this chapter. I don't know why. **_Shrugs_**
> 
> **Translations:**  
Nada


	12. Chapter Twelve  - Of Hunts and Dissension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people get down to business and

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada~! Still don't like it, but Notes says it don't read much like an outline anymore so it's better than nothing.
> 
> **_Trigger Warnings:_**  
Talk of planned murder due to Xenophobia? I guess?  
Oh, and Talk of Biological Warfare
> 
> If I missed a trigger or made a mistake, please tell me and I'll add it to the list/fix it later.

They decided to spend the rest of the day figuring out how to heal on command. It involved some unsafe practices–about which Nacia will be having  _ Nightmares _ of, thank you  _ ever  _ so much  _ Uncle Titus _ . Could that time have been better spent doing her job and investigating? Maybe. But as Titus himself said as he washed the blood off his hands that evening, time spent learning a practical skill was never wasted.

The next morning, after a thankfully break-down free breakfast, they sat down to plan out their attack. Titus laid out what he knew, which was more than what the Royal Intelligence could boast. The sheer amount of information that man could gleam from local gossip had Nacia wondering if she found out what had made Drautos such a good double agent. Or Kingsglaive Captain, even.

Anyway, the planning session then led to a couple of things not 'Civil Unrest' related. Such as Titus asking if Nacia should maybe call her Dad and tell him his child's not dead, or something like that.

Nacia opened her mouth, remembered Dad's fretting, closed it and proceeded to do exactly that.

What she had hoped would be a fast phone call quickly turned into 45 minutes of repeatedly telling her family that 'yes, I'm fine,' and 'no, nobody's dead yet,' and 'ok fine, yes I told someone, quit it and give me a cut of that bet money.' All in all, Nacia thought as she hung up and watched Titus wheeze out hysterical laughter, that was a good introduction to the craziness masquerading as the royal family.

"I can see where ya get ya attitude from, now," Titus commented, out of breath, and only laughed harder when Nacia tried to smack him.

** _\---_ **

Three days later, Titus had finished talking to every single contact he had about suspicious characters hanging around or new people going places they shouldn't. He even let her help by directing her towards the local kids to see if they knew something. Which they did.

Every single one of those contacts either pointed them towards or warned them away from a supposedly abandoned warehouse right in the middle of the District. And you know what they say: 'Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence; three times is enemy action.' So onwards to the warehouse they went.

"Why does this building fill me with such dread, I wonder?" Nacia deadpanned as she gazed up at the ominous-looking building, eyes shaded by her hand.

"Because ya're not a stupid kid?" Titus replied as he did the same. They looked at each other and shrugged. "Wanna look inside before callin' ya Da?"

"Might as well, 'twould be shame if they came and 'twas all for naught." Her archaic language earned her an exasperated look. "What? I was just tryin' ta lighten the mood, yeesh." Now that had her newest uncle rolling his eyes. "Everyone's a critic," she mumbled under her breath.

"Just start walkin'." Titus gave her a push towards the warehouse entrance, Nacia protesting with each step. When they finally reached the doors, Titus gave her a flashlight, turning his own on to pierce the gloom.

They stared at what the lights revealed.

"Fuck."

* * *

On the other side of Insomnia, things had gone a little more smoothly, as well as a little more quickly, and it was mostly thanks to Prompto.

Prompto, who charmed the Noble children into gossiping about what their parents discussed at home. 'Oh, Mama told Papa that Lord Purgo told her the poor people problem was almost taken care of,' or, 'Daddy and Mr. Callide were talking about sicknesses having a best by date,' or, 'Auntie said those dirty bastards are going to get what's coming to them and that she hopes the bodies won't pollute Insomnia anymore than they already are.'

He memorized the names that popped up in those conversations and ran to his dad with the evidence he had collected. Cor took his list of names and ran it against the suspected names Clarus and Aulea had gathered and sent it up to Regis, who made a case for the council to issue an investigation into the actions of the named nobles.

It took three days to find the mastermind behind the dissension and he was promptly arrested, to be brought before the king.

"You  _ what _ ?!" Regis hissed, looking at the man behind this in horrified terror.

"You'll never get there in time, your Majesty!" The soon to be either disgraced or dead Lord Mori Purgo laughed. "Soon the Crown City will house only the pure!"

He quickly motioned the guards to take the disgraced noble away and frantically dialed his son's phone number. "Come on, come on, pick up, please pick up…. Noctis! Thank the Astrals, there is not much time! Somewhere in the Immigrant District–"

"Is a warehouse full of vials rigged to explode in, oh, about ten minutes?" Noctis interrupted with a sad smile as he eyed the timer innocently counting down the minutes until detonation. He was standing amongst a  _ shit ton _ of crates, all containing vials of some sort of noxious pink liquid, with more of those vials loosely scattered around the building. He had tried to move a crate, just to see if he could put them into the Armiger, but they were stuck fast to the floor and he didn't have the time nor manpower to move them.

He gave a small huff at the horrified silence on the other end. "Yeah, I actually followed a lead here with my contact and found the place. It's funny, the jerks finding a warehouse this size smack dab in the middle of the district."

_ "Which means you can't make it to the city proper, then." _ Dad remarked without emotion, which usually meant he was about halfway to destroying something.

Letting out a cheerful, "Nope!" Noct was just going to keep pretending that he wasn't standing next to a pile of explosives and this was just a simple conversation with his dad. "I got Titus–the contact I mentioned?–clearing out the area since the actual blast radius is unknown at this point and I'm just looking for anything that could've been left behind."

He kept an eye on the clock as he went through some of the abandoned desks nearby. "You have the bomb shields in place, I'm guessing?" He made a triumphant noise as he came across a thick folder in one of the drawers. He tucked it–and a loose vial of whatever it was–away in the Armiger and let his dad know they were there.

_ "Thank you, Noctis. I'll let our scientists take a look at them and hopefully give us an idea on what we're working with here. And yes, the shields are currently being deployed." _ There was silence for a moment before his dad inhaled sharply.  _ "Noctis." _ Another pause.  _ "You are aware, that as  _ soon _ as these shields are up, you won't be able to contact anybody on the outside until they're let down again?" _

"Yeah, Dad, I know." Noct stepped outside and joined the crowd scurrying away from the condemned building. "Do you know what's in those vials?"

_ "According to the mastermind behind the movement, a cure for Insomnia's Immigration Problem." _ Dad sighed and gave a harsh bark of laughter.  _ "Cid always said the way we were handling Immigration after my father scaled back the wall was going to come back to bite me in the ass. I should've known the old hammer head was right, he usually was about these things." _ Silence once again fell.

"Hey, Dad?"

_ "Yes, Nightlight?" _

"Tell everyone that I love them?"

_ "I will. I'm praying for you, my son."  _ Dad inhaled sharply, probably holding in tears,  _ "Remember, we all love you, forever and always." _

"Forever and always." He echoed faintly and the shield went up just as the warehouse imploded and whatever was in those vials was released into the air.

Regis heard the call disconnect and let the phone drop to his desk, tears finally falling. He ignored Clarus' worried inquiries about Noctis' whereabouts as he folded a hand over his mouth, bit his knuckle and began to pray.  _ Astrals above, hear my plea. Watch over my son and subjects in their time of need. Please, keep them safe from those who wish them ill and let them survive that which has yet to come. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo.... I have had this part planned out since I started writing this fic last year and I will admit the reason it took so long to update was due to me debating whether or not to change it because of what's currently happening. However, as you can see, I decided to upload it anyway and I really hope I don't come to regret doing so.
> 
> **_Translations:_**  
Nada


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Of Plagues and Unforseen Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are consequences in standing close to the epicenter of an explosion and Nacia gets yelled at for disobeying an order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! I would've made it longer, but this story is fighting me like it wants me to suffer.
> 
> **_Trigger Warnings:_**  
Plague and coughing up blood?
> 
> PS. I'm still working on that extra, krzys2000! It's just happening really slowly.
> 
> Beta'd by notesoftruth (thank you notes~) and, as always, if I've missed a Trigger, tell me so I can fix it 💙

Three days. That's how long it took for whatever was in those vials to start making people sick. Three days for the streets to empty, for people to barricade themselves indoors as fever set in, breathing became a struggle, and blood started dripping from the nose and mouth. Three  _ fucking _ days to watch as Titus wilted while Nacia herself remained strong and healthy.

"Why won't ya let me try ta heal ya?!" She was damn near crying at this point–wait, no, nevermind. She scrubbed a hand over her eyes, sagging into the chair she had pulled up next to Titus' bed and let her hand drop down to run along Jor's scales, the python having curled into a sad coil on her owner's bed.

"Ya know why." Titus rasped from where he was reclining on his bed. He raised a shaky hand, which Nacia was quick to grab. "Ya haven't gotten sick an' I want to keep ya like that. If it means m'gonna suffer, then so be it."

The sentence ended with a harsh cough, frothy pink blood spilling from cracked lips and she felt more tears fall from her eyes as she cleaned his face with a stained cloth. "I can't watch ya like this, Titus, I jus' can't!" Nacia angrily threw the cloth at the already huge pile of bloody fabric, the noise startling Jor into trying to slither away. A quick stroke down her scales calmed her down and Nacia swung around to point at the bed ridden man, who tried to hold his arms up in surrender only to have them flop uselessly onto the bed after a couple of seconds.

Nacia bit her lip at the sight, but carried on regardless. "If ya get any worse so help me, I'm healin' ya, ya got me?" She didn't let up on her threatening finger until he nodded. "Good." She plopped onto the chair and sniffled, wrinkling her nose when the sour smell of old sweat hit it. "Guess it's time for a bath." A slightly watery giggle escaped her at the grimace that suddenly twisted his face. "Ya do remember that ya don't have anythin' I haven't seen afore right?"

"I know," his expression didn't change and her humor faded. "Doesn't make me feel anymore comfortable, seein' as ya really a child an' m'an adult, but we really don't have another option at this point either."

Now she felt horrible for finding his discomfort funny. "I'm sorry." Nacia tried to look away but was stopped by a shaky hand on her chin. She turned back and was rewarded with a smile as Titus let the hand fall.

"'S not ya fault this shitty thin' happened to the district. 'S not ya Da's fault either, so cheer up an' go start me up a bath, a'right?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and she jokingly saluted him like a Glaive.

"Yes, sir!"

Unfortunately, she had to follow through with her threat two days later when his fever spiked. "I am  _ not _ losin' ya, ya asshole, I absolutely refuse ta." She slapped her hands onto his chest and mentally screamed  _ 'Heal him!' _

Golden (like gold-gold,  _ shiny-money-gold _ ) magic streamed from her fingertips and she could actually feel her magic grab ahold of the virus (she called it that because it felt like a virus, how did she know what a virus felt like?) that was attacking Titus' very DNA (again,  _ how  _ did she _ know that? _ ). When she felt like she had a good enough grip (and  _ Sweet Astrals, _ did that felt really weird) on the stupid thing, she pulled it from his body into her own.

Nacia sank to the ground, watching with hazy eyes as Titus shot awake with a gasp, looking like he was breathing easy for the first time in almost a week. Then he noticed her, and she could only offer him a tired smile before the floor rushed up to meet her.

** _\---_ **

"That was  _ the _ stupidest thin' ya coulda done, kid," was the first thing Nacia heard when she woke back up. She turned to find that she and Titus had switched their earlier positions, with him being the one sitting by the bedside–though she was pretty sure that she hadn't looked like a storm cloud. Nor did she peel an apple with a wicked looking blade either, so, way to be intimidating, good  _ lord. _

Still… "I regret  _ nothin'. _ " She stated firmly and Titus let out the biggest sigh she had ever heard, and she had heard plenty from Clarus (though whether they were directed toward her or Dad was another story altogether) _ . _

She forced her tired mind back on track when Titus put down the half peeled apple and told her, "I know ya don't, kid." Then he gathered Nacia up into a tight hug and mumbled into her hair. "I may've only know ya a week, but we Drautos don't mess around when we declare someone family." She flinched as wetness started soaking the top of her head. Was that… was he...  _ crying?  _ "So don't go scarin' me like that again, ya hear me?"

She wrapped her arms around him tightly but could only offer, "I'm sorry Uncle Titus, I'll try not to." Titus sniffed and huffed out a begrudging laugh that made her lips twitch into a smile.

"Get some more sleep, kid." He ordered as he started to pull away and she reluctantly let go. "If ya still feel alright when ya wake up again, we can see about curin' other people." How did…! He raised a brow at her no-doubt startled expression. "Nacia, ya're in this situation 'cause ya wanted to help people. If that didn't tell me a lot about ya as a person, then the way ya immediately asked if ya could heal me after I started showin' symptoms would've done the trick." 

Oh. But why 'we'? Titus could get sick again!

She voiced her question and concern out loud but this time his laugh was a little bit more lighthearted. "As I said before, kid, ya're family. Well, that an' ya parents would probably kill me if somethin' happened to ya. I value my continued existence an' ability to breathe, thank ya kindly." That had her giggling, which made Titus smirk down at her. "An' as for me gettin' sick again, well, I was feelin' pretty awful almost immediately after the warehouse imploded. It's been almost 12 hours since ya healed me an' right now, I feel  _ nothin' _ ."

What?

"Mhmm," Titus nodded and started counting off his fingers, "no snifflin', no coughin', no blood, no shivers, no nothin'. So either ya healin' me gave me immunity or somehow this is one of those illnesses where ya get it once an' then never again. Or, knowin' my luck, it's probably not even that, and is something equally weird, but!" Titus clapped his hands together suddenly, which made her jump. "Ya were goin' back to bed so we'll talk about this tomorrow or whenever it is that ya wake up." Nacia began to protest but Titus glared at her until her mouth clicked closed.

"No. Sleep. For  _ at least _ a few hours." Holy Astrals he's a worse motherhen than Adrian! Titus then pointed at her with a stern finger. "Don't think I can't see ya hiding those shakin' limbs there, missy." 

She didn't want to say the man had a point, but unfortunately,  _ the man had a point. _ She crossed her arms and pouted. Hmph. "Fine." She didn't put up a fight when Titus pushed her down and pulled the covers up under her chin. " _ Oíche mhaith, _ Uncle Titus." She closed her eyes and began to drift away. However, she was just awake enough to feel a pair of dry lips press gently against her forehead and hear the whisper that followed.

_ "Codladh sámh duit, mo neacht." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** _Translations:_ **
> 
> _Oíche mhaith_ \- Good night  
_Codladh sámh duit, mo neacht_ \- May you sleep well, my niece


End file.
